


i can't quit (you)

by tinymark (lumoon33)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rugby, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan is Whipped, Love Confessions, M/M, Mark Lee is a sweetheart, Mild Angst, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, side luren!!, time to turn that into a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24760090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumoon33/pseuds/tinymark
Summary: Donghyuck never thought the meaning of home could change so much in a year.or: the markhyuck rugby au no one asked for
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 89
Kudos: 589
Collections: Favorites





	i can't quit (you)

**Author's Note:**

> oofffffffffffffff okay. this is a monstrosity and a lot happens here so i dont even know how to tag it???
> 
> stuff you should know before reading:  
> \- there's weed and alcohol in like two scenes.  
> \- there are more side characters (since a rugby team is fucking big) but they arent important enough to get tagged.  
> \- you don't need to know shit about rugby to read this, haechan is clueless here at first, the important stuff gets explained easily. it's not a fic about rugby anyway, this is about markhyuck falling in love and they just happen to play rugby.
> 
> i think thats all!!! just so you know this is so long and i hate rereading my stuff so i only skimmed thru it, so im sorry for any mistakes you can find. plus, english isn't my first language
> 
> OKAY THATS ALL I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS MONSTROSITY IT WAS EMOTIONALLY DRAINING HAVE FUN

Donghyuck wants to go home.

He still doesn’t know why he agreed to this. He doesn’t understand why someone would willingly attend rugby practice during a summer afternoon. He’s squinting under the aggressive white light as he tries to find his best friend’s body in the field. He isn’t even moving, but his loose t-shirt sticks to his back with sweat, his skin feels tight and rough, and he’s pretty sure he’ll have a bad sunburn on his nose tomorrow. 

He really, _really_ wants to go home.

“Renjun is fucking crazy,” he says, still looking towards the field between his eyelashes, staring at the bunch of dudes huddled together under the sun. “Who the fuck can stand that amount of running around and physical contact when we’re living in literal hell.”

“It’s not that bad,” Jisung scoffs next to him, bumping his shoulder against Donghyuck. “You just love complaining. It looks fun.”

“It’s two hundred degrees, don’t fucking touch me!” He screams as he pushes Jisung away, frowning at him. His friend stares back, eyebrows raised as if he’s trying to prove a point.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and focuses back on the practice in front of him. He doesn’t understand shit, he has no clue what’s going on. He came here to try to be a good friend, he promised he’d pay attention and consider joining the team, but apart from tackling people to the ground as a way to destress, he really can’t see the appeal.

In his opinion, the only good thing about it is how happy it seems to make Renjun. He jogs towards them half an hour later, and he’s smiling so wide and bright, Donghyuck has to squint to look at him, the same way he squints under the sun. That’s the only reason why he would ever join, he thinks, to share that happiness first-hand.

“Hey,” Renjun greets them as he reaches them. He’s panting, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, sports clothes dirty with mud, and a water bottle in hand. “So, what’d you think?”

He’s looking up at them all hopeful, and Donghyuck has to scoff and roll his eyes because, seriously, why would someone enjoy this kind of thing? And how is he supposed to deny Renjun anything when he looks like that?

“Dude, it’s so cool,” Jisung says, chirpy and excited. He sounds so genuine, Donghyuck scoffs again. “When you tackled that one big guy to the ground? How can a smurf like you do that?”

Renjun opens his water bottle and gets on his tiptoes to lift it over Jisung’s head, threatening him to spill the content all over his hair. Honestly, Donghyuck doesn’t think it would be such a bad idea, considering they are boiling under this scorching sun.

“Shut up, brat. The secret is in the legs,” Renjun is saying. He pauses to chug down half of the water in the plastic bottle, then continues, “you’ll understand once you start training.”

Donghyuck can’t help the annoyed whine that crawls out of his throat. Renjun looks at him with an raised eyebrow, unimpressed. The sneaky little shit probably already knows that he's got them both wrapped around his finger.

“But it looks like a torture. You’re insane,” Donghyuck complains as he reaches out a hand, trying to snatch the water bottle from Renjun’s fingers. “Please, I’m literally melting to death.”

Renjun’s other eyebrow goes up, still unimpressed.

“No rugby, no water!” And the bastard turns around and jogs back to the center of the field, where the other players are already gathering together again, water bottle still in hand.

Donghyuck stands there, looking at him sweaty and tired and annoyed, when someone catches his attention with a soft “hey”.

When he look away from Renjun’s retreating form, he comes eye to eye with another sweaty boy. This guy’s hair is also a mess, black and damp and sticking out in every possible direction at the top of his head. His eyes are round and wide and big, and Donghyuck swears they are _twinkling._ He’s flushed, just like Renjun was, his cheeks bright red, his chest moving up and down under his stretched t-shirt, panting.

“Here,” he speaks again, so softly, pushing something towards Donghyuck’s body.

It’s then when Donghyuck realises with a jolt that he has been staring. He shakes his head and looks down. The boy is handing him a half empty water bottle, and Donghyuck knows you should never accept drinks from a stranger, but he feels like his skin is dissolving under this hot weather, and this boy has such a gentle smile on his lips. His fingers feel so warm against Donghyuck’s when he reaches to take the bottle from his hand.

“Thanks,” he mumbles dumbly, just as softly. The boy’s smile gets wider, white teeth and sharp cheekbones and a scrunched nose. He shrugs his right shoulder, and then takes off the same way Renjun left.

Donghyuck’s mouth is even drier than a few minutes ago, but he totally forgets the water bottle in his hand until Jisung starts to snicker next to him.

“What was that?”

“Shut your ugly mouth,” Donghyuck threatens him as he opens the bottle. “You’re an asshole, I’m not sharing.”

“Hyuck, you look like a fucking lobster,” Jisung says, trying to stifle his laughter under his hand.

“It’s two hundred degrees, how am I supposed to look? And don’t fucking swear!”

He still wants to go home when he takes the water bottle to his lips, but rugby has improved.

\- - -

If Donghyuck wasn’t such a great, lovable friend, he would murder Renjun.

The first time he joins rugby practice is up there in the list of the most embarrassing days of his entire life. Probably second to that one time he ripped his jeans during gym class when he was bragging about how easy it was to do a split.

He will never understand why a sports team would decide to start pre-season training in fucking July. He swears to god there’s sweat dripping down his body _everywhere_ , his cheeks are probably tomato red. His hair sticks to his neck, his t-shirt clings to his back, the back of his knees feel all damp and gross. He’s never been more uncomfortable in his entire life.

At least, he isn’t the only one. Jisung looks just as annoyed as he feels, standing awkwardly next to Donghyuck throughout the entire thing, bringing so much more attention towards himself, since he’s a million feet tall and all lanky. He tries to shrink under the judging eyes of all the other boys on the team, curls his arms around himself in a useless attempt at making himself smaller. Honestly, Donghyuck thinks this is karma’s payback for all the times Jisung has called him a hobbit.

The things is, a rugby ball isn’t even _round_ and, apparently, the first and most important rule in rugby is that you have to pass the ball _backwards._ That makes literally zero sense, and Donghyuck is convinced the devil himself came up with this game, that would explain why they are training in hell, heat and dust everywhere.

Even though their coach is patient and nice to them, giving them a brief explanation of how the sport works and what they will be doing that day before they start, Donghyuck feels lost, dirty and out of place throughout the entire thing. They get split up into two teams to practice passes, because, apparently, the second most important thing in rugby is to have steady hands. He keeps chasing the guys that are supposedly in his team, because that’s the only thing he can come up with, Jisung close behind him.

He knows he looks disgusting, he hasn’t exercised in so long, he’s a million times more sweaty than everyone else in the field. He’s kinda glad that the other dudes seem to have come to a silent agreement and are purposely ignoring his and Jisung’s existence, they don’t get a single pass in the first half an hour of training. He’s also kinda very much glad that the cute guy from the other day isn’t in his team, a first sweaty impression is enough, thank you very much, he doesn’t need a second one.

Everything goes to shit when Taeyong, also known as captain, decides to play the good Samaritan role.

“Throw the new guys some passes,” he screams over his shoulder while he runs. He has the nerve to not sound even a little bit out of breath. “Otherwise, they’ll never learn!”

Donghyuck doesn’t want to learn, he hopes the disgusted expression on his face puts that point across. But this one blue haired dude doesn’t seem to know how to read faces, and he throws the ball at Donghyuck anyway.

He tries, he swears to god he tries to catch the slippery, oval thing, but it just bumps against his palms and falls to the ground. Donghyuck trips over it, and the only reason he doesn’t fall face first into the ground is Jisung’s fast hand gripping his t-shirt.

There’s a loud, ugly stretching sound, and then Donghyuck can feel the scorching sun right against his left side, directly over his skin. He looks down to his ripped t-shirt, then to Jisung’s dumb face, his eyebrows raised up in his forehead, surprised and apologetic.

Donghyuck is still deciding if he should get mad at him for ruining his clothes in front of all these strangers or if he should be thankful for the fact that he stopped him from face planting, when the same blue haired dude says:

“Wake up, sunshine!”

Everyone laughs.

Donghyuck’s head snaps towards him so fast he almost gives himself whiplash. The guy is grinning so wide, mocking and amused, with this obvious air of superiority. His smile is pretty. Donghyuck flips him off.

He watches as the dude’s smile vanishes, his eyebrows wrinkling in an upset frown. He opens his mouth to speak again, but Taeyong is faster.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he says, walking closer to Donghyuck, crouching down to pick up the ball. “Don’t worry, you’re just starting. Practice makes perfect.” He pushes the ball into Donghyuck’s hands, rearranges his fingers around it to help him grip it properly, and then points towards the blue haired bastard with a nod of his head, encouraging Donghyuck to pass the ball.

The problem is, Donghyuck doesn’t want to get perfect at rugby, he just wants to stop feeling ridiculous. He passes the ball way too hard, way too high, aimed at the guy’s face. He’s disappointed when the dude catches it perfectly.

“Bad luck, honey,” he throws another radiant, arrogant smile Donghyuck’s way and starts running, resuming practice. Donghyuck can’t wait for the day they practice tackling so he can stamp that smile into the dirt.

Once practice is over, Renjun runs towards him before he gets into the changing room. He tangles his fingers in the ripped hole in Donghyuck’s wet shirt, pulls at it with a resigned sigh.

“I promise it gets better,” his voice is kind, but a little condescending, and Donghyuck can’t help but roll his eyes at him. “I’m serious, I sucked at first too. But try to be nicer next time.”

Donghyuck knew this was coming. Their changing rooms are too small, the coach told them about this before practice, so they have to split by age. Renjun is trying to cool him down before he has to share a shower with an asshole. And, at first, Donghyuck was going to be nice, for Renjun. He knows his first weeks were hard, these guys aren’t used to having to welcome new people into the team. Renjun has built something similar to friendship with his teammates now, and he knows it took him _months_ to get there, Donghyuck doesn’t want to ruin it for him. But he won’t get stepped on.

“I didn’t start it. He was mocking me, Injun,” Donghyuck pulls away, taking his shirt out of Renjun’s hold harshly.

“He didn’t mean to be rude,” he assures him, but it sounds fake to Donghyuck’s ears. “That’s just the way Jaemin is, he messes around.”

“You shouldn’t mess with people you don’t know,” he snaps back. Renjun ducks his head, because he knows Donghyuck is right.

At that moment, Jaemin shows up around the corner. He stops when he spots Donghyuck on the door of the changing room, looks him up and down, his lips stretching into a smile when they catch on his ripped t-shirt. Donghyuck’s fingers itch with the need to flip him off again.

Then, Jaemin is walking away, heading to the older players’ changing room, dragging a pretty boy behind him. Donghyuck hadn’t even realized he had been standing there.

It’s only then when Donghyuck catches the guy’s eyes for the first time since the water bottle incident. They are just as round, just as bright, still twinkling. He’s looking at Donghyuck somewhat apologetic, a small, sad smile on his lips as he lets himself be dragged away.

Disappointment floods his body when he realizes he just missed the chance to share a changing room with a cute boy. It doubles force when it sinks in that said cute boy is friends with the blue demon. A pout finds its way to Donghyuck’s lips before he can stop it, Renjun gives him a weird look and his cheeks heat up.

“I fucking hate this Jaemin guy.”

\- - -

Taeyong and Renjun are liars, because it does not get better with time. At least, not for Donghyuck.

Their coach decides Donghyuck should play as a flanker, and he has no idea what the fuck that means, but it involves being really far away from Renjun’s and Jisung’s positions and too close to Jaemin. In fact, he _shares_ the position with Jaemin.

His practices go by between missed passes and bruised knees and Jaemin’s snarky remarks about how he doesn’t have steady enough hands or strong enough legs. Donghyuck doesn’t stay quiet, he snaps right back every time, sending jabs to what he truthfully thinks is a low self-esteem on Jaemin’s part, if he feels so threatened by a newbie like Donghyuck taking over his position. No matter how many times Taeyong and their coach tells them to cut it, this is something personal now.

He doesn’t even know why he keeps attending practice, he was doing this for Renjun, but he doesn’t even train with him. He keeps sneaking glances towards his friends, on the other side of the field, happy together and with actual decent teammates.

At least, time is making things better for Jisung. Donghyuck can see the improvements himself: even if he’s still a bit lost, each day that goes by he gets a little bit faster, a little bit steadier. He has a good teacher too, he shares his position with Mark (pretty boy, that is) and, even from his place on the other side of the field, Donghyuck can see Mark is all big smiles and kind eyes and loud laughter. He keeps clapping for Jisung every time he gets something right, and he claps some more when Jisung gets something wrong. If he’s this cute from afar, how much cuter can he get up close, Donghyuck wonders.

He can’t believe this guy is friends with Jaemin of all people.

Suddenly, someone is screaming his name but, before Donghyuck can turn around, a rugby ball hits him full in the back with such a force he has to double over.

“What the hell,” he stays still for a few seconds, bending down, hands gripping his bruised knees and eyes fixed on the ground.

“Can you stop being useless for a second?” Jaemin’s voice sounds high pitched with irritation, colder than ever, nastier, and so close.

“Jaemin, that’s enough!” Taeyong shouts from somewhere behind them, but Donghyuck is already turning around to face Jaemin, his chest swelling up with anger.

Jaemin is right in front of him, way too close for Donghyuck’s liking. He balls his hands into fists and hits him right in the chest, trying to get him away from him.

“What the fuck is your problem with me?” Donghyuck hates that his voice is a little shaky with emotion, so are his hands. He hates that this asshole can get such a rise out of him.

Jaemin stumbles backwards a little, but his eyes narrow. He comes closer one more time, every single line of his body screaming danger. “Pay attention to the damn game!” He screams, right into Donghyuck’s face.

“Jaemin, cut it out!” Somebody else chimes in, pulling at Jaemin’s arm, but he doesn’t bulge.

Donghyuck’s eyes slide to the side to find Mark there, because apparently they’ve caught everyone’s attention with their screaming. He has his hands tight around Jaemin’s left arm, his fingers digging there with such force his tips go white. His eyebrows are drawn in an annoyed frown, his lips pressed tight into a pout and, for the first time since Donghyuck has known him, his big round eyes aren’t twinkling, they are half closed and _dark._

Somehow, it makes Donghyuck even angrier.

“Maybe if you were nicer,” he says, redirecting his attention to Jaemin.

“Maybe if you actually _tried_!”

His words hit Donghyuck like a slap in the face, open handed and harsh and white hot, because he’s trying so damn hard. It may not look like it to other people, but he keeps showing up day after day to practices full of cold shoulders and snarky comments that make him feel so incredibly useless. That should be enough. He’s aware he could put more work into it, he knows he spends way too much time looking for Renjun and Jisung’s bodies with his eyes. But he can’t help it, he feels so alone. It’s impossible for him to put more effort into it, when there are so many rude judging eyes following every single one of his movements, expecting him to fail.

So he shoots back, “you make this sport suck, how am I supposed to focus?”

Mark makes such an ugly noise in his throat when the words leave Donghyuck’s lips, he can’t help but turn around to look at him again. His expression hasn’t softened, but it’s pinched with a different feeling now, almost hurt. His fingers unclench on Jaemin’s arm and he starts to rub his hands up and down, as if he’s trying to comfort him.

The sight sits wrong with Donghyuck, even if he has crossed only a couple of words with Mark, he feels like he’s being unfair. Donghyuck is the one who should be comforted. He deserves to be comforted.

He frowns and slides his eyes back to Jaemin to find his face is all empty, eyes hard and jaw set. He keeps staring at Donghyuck unblinking, as if he’s trying to unravel him. Then, he parts his lips, his mouth twisting with an ugly curl.

“If you just want to spend time with Renjun, you can go make out somewhere else. We don’t need dead weights here.”

Honestly, Donghyuck has had enough. He can put up with people calling him names, he can bite right back, twice as venomous. But he will not stand there while someone he doesn’t even know makes assumptions about his friendships and talks about them as if they mean nothing. So he gets the fuck out of there.

He shoves Jaemin’s chest with his shoulder and opens himself a way right between him and Mark. He walks towards the changing room without looking back, not even when Jisung and Renjun call out his name. But then, there’s the sound of cleats hitting the sidewalk right behind him, there’s a hand clutching his shoulder and an urgent, worried voice he knows better than he should.

“Donghyuck, wait,” he shakes the hand off of him and keeps walking. “Please,” it’s louder this time, and fingers grab his shirt, forcing him to come to a stop.

Donghyuck turns around, anger and exasperation rolling off his body in violent waves. “Don’t waste my time, Mark,” he snaps, so harsh Donghyuck himself almost flinches when Mark retreats his hand at light speed.

“Listen, I-” Mark’s eyes slide to the side, then to the ground, then back to Donghyuck. “Jaemin didn’t mean to…” He stops again, and Donghyuck raises his eyebrows, prompting him to keep going. But Mark chokes a little and looks down again, rubbing a hand over his neck. “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck can’t be sure if the pink blush on Mark’s cheeks is because of practice or because of him, but he looks so flustered right now. He’s looking everywhere but at Donghyuck, his brows furrowed in discomfort, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Donghyuck’s eyes linger there for a moment, fixed on his rosy lips, the upper one is a little bit thicker, and they are chapped, probably because Mark keeps biting on them when he gets embarrassed. He’s so endearing, Donghyuck can already feel the anger melting away into something foreign, something tender.

He huffs, “I’m not gonna accept your apology on Jaemin’s name,” Mark’s eyes snap up to him, open in expectation, always so damn big. “He has a pretty mouth to speak for himself.”

Apparently, Mark is incapable of holding eye contact for longer than two seconds. He goes back to staring at his feet, his hand drops from his neck, shoulders slumped in defeat.

He coughs a little before he says: “Still, he’s a nice guy. It’s hard for him sometimes.”

“Yeah, right,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, annoyance killing anything soft inside of him, anger already spiraling in his belly again, hot and ugly. “It’s only hard for him.”

He turns around to resume his way to the changing room, but Mark’s hand flies to his arm, curls around his left wrist, gentle but firm. Donghyuck balls his fingers into fists, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Hang on, I didn’t mean it like that.” When he sighs and faces Mark again, he’s looking at him straight in the eyes. “You aren’t quitting, right?”

And, the thing is, Donghyuck was going to quit. He wasn’t planning on setting foot on that field ever again. But Mark’s eyes are doing that twinkling thing again, he’s looking up at him with so much hope, it makes his breath stutter in his lungs. Why does he even care, if they haven’t exchanged more than a couple of sentences since Donghyuck joined the team?

He stays still, staring into Mark’s eyes, and Mark holds his gaze even if his face gets incredibly warm, Donghyuck can see it in the flush down his neck. Donghyuck’s mouth goes dry as he pulls his wrist out of Mark’s grip, slowly. Mark lets him go, but he doesn’t look away once, still waiting for an answer, hopeful and patient.

Donghyuck breathes in deep, and says, “I’m no quitter.”

He turns around to leave, but he doesn’t miss Mark _beaming_ at him.

He needs a damn water bottle.

(“Do you think Jaemin is jealous because he likes Renjun?” Jisung says half an hour later, when Donghyuck has already cooled down in the shower and is sitting down on the changing room benches waiting for his friends to finish, comfortable in a fresh set of clothes.

His face twists in disgust, both at the prospect of someone thinking there’s something romantic between him and Renjun and of an asshole like Jaemin trying to make moves on his best friend.

Lucas, one of the few other members that shares a changing room with them, laughs from inside of a shower stall. His laughter is thundering, it bounces off the tiles with amusement. Donghyuck can’t help but chuckle with him.

“If he is,” Lucas says, coming out of the shower dripping wet, a towel around his waist, “he’s gotten it all wrong.”

Donghyuck doesn’t miss the big, goofy smile he throws Renjun’s way. Neither does he miss the way Renjun seems to be trying to kill Lucas with his eyes, though the pink shadow on the tip of his ears betrays him.)

\- - -

Training gets easier after the fight, mainly because Jaemin ignores his existence instead of picking at everything Donghyuck does. It’s still awkward and cold and he feels unwanted, but at least he can focus. He thinks he’s improving, but there’s no one to reassure him, since his friends are still training on the other side of the field.

The only time they are actually together is when they are in the changing room. They have to share with Lucas and these two other kids called Chenle and Jeno, and it’s not that bad. But the rest of the team is so annoying, every time practice is over and they lock themselves in the changing room next door, they keep screaming and banging on the walls, music blasting full volume, it’s almost impossible for them to have a decent conversation over all that noise.

Donghyuck doesn’t understand why Mark allows Jaemin to drag him with him to the other locker room. He looks so apologetic every time he walks past their door to enter the other room, head ducked and his wrist trapped between Jaemin’s finger. He won’t admit it out loud, but Donghyuck keeps waiting patiently, hopefully, for Mark to get fed up of all these annoying dudes and join Donghyuck and his friends, or for Lucas to get fed up of Jaemin’s bullshit and steal Mark away from him.

Because, apparently, Jaemin isn’t Mark’s only best friend, he shares the title with Lucas.

Donghyuck learns this one day after practice, when he’s already changed into comfortable, clean sweats and a loose, fresh t-shirt. He walks out of the changing room with Renjun to find Mark waiting outside, straddling a bike.

This is the first time Donghyuck sees him after practice. It hits him differently, gentler somehow, if that was even possible.

Mark is wearing a sleeveless hoodie, his arms are crossed over the handles of the bike, the position accentuating how toned he is, and he has his chin resting on his forearms. His eyes are sleepy behind the round glasses that slide down almost to the tip of his nose. He’s got the hood pulled over his still wet, disheveled hair, and Donghyuck can see his cheeks are pinched red, probably because of the warm weather and the water of the shower.

He is a little taken aback by the sight, his eyes roaming all over Mark’s body unabashedly. He’s being so obvious that Renjun has to elbow him in the ribs, an amused, mocking smirk curling the sides of his mouth. Donghyuck ducks his head a little bit embarrassed, but his cheeks go warm with a thrill at the fact that Mark was eying him right back, his wide twinkling eyes looking him up and down with curiosity.

Renjun clears his throat to hide his laughter and says, “are you waiting for Xuxi?”

“Who the fuck is Xuxi?” Donghyuck chimes in before Mark can answer, because going quiet when he’s embarrassed is the opposite to what he’s good at.

And Mark barks out a laugh, so loud and carefree, with his mouth wide open and his head pulled back, clapping excitedly.

Donghyuck looks at Renjun with wide eyes, bewildered. Because he is aware that he is hilarious, but there was nothing funny about his question. Renjun just brushes it off with a shake of his head.

“I’m talking about Lucas, Donghyuck,” he says, with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“Oh,” is all Donghyuck replies. He slides his eyes back to Mark, who has stopped laughing, but there’s this big smile plastered on his face, one that makes his cheekbone stand out. It’s kind of breathtaking.

“I’m waiting for him, yeah,” he says, looking down at his bike. “The chain broke on my way here, he’s gonna drive me home.”

Then, Mark and Renjun are diving themselves into a conversation about bikes that Donghyuck doesn’t understand and isn’t interested in at all. He feels a little left out, standing there to the side, his eyes jumping between them as they speak excitedly. He’s getting bored, so he starts to try to step on the back of Renjun’s feet because, if you ask him, there is nothing funnier than an annoyed Renjun.

It doesn't bring him the attention he wants at first, Renjun just keeps shoving him off while he keeps carrying the conversation, but Mark’s seemingly permanent smile gets a little wider, a little bit more amused. The sight settles pleasantly warm in Donghyuck’s belly, so he doesn’t stop until he manages to actually push one of Renjun’s feet out of his sneakers.

There it comes again, Mark’s full laughter. It is boisterous and unashamed, his face gets all wrinkled, nose scrunched up in delight, as if Donghyuck is the funniest person he has ever seen. It makes Donghyuck feel like he is, and it’s such a sweet feeling.

He can’t enjoy it for too long though, he’s too busy trying to stop Renjun to smack the back of his head.

“Is he always like this?” Mark asks once he’s calmed down a little, looking all lively and lovely.

“What?” Renjun shoots back, his hands wrapped tightly around Donghyuck’s wrists as he steps on his feet, impeding him from moving again. “A pain in the ass? Yes.”

Donghyuck huffs at the same time Mark says, “no, like. Like, bright?”

His head snaps up toward Mark so fast, Donghyuck almost bumps his forehead against Renjun’s.

Mark looks away abruptly, his eyes jumping everywhere, never coming close to Donghyuck, his cheeks getting rosy behind his glasses, as if he’s only now registering what he just said. It’s like he always does everything by impulse, as if he has so much inside of him, he doesn’t have time to stop and think before he’s bursting, blurting out whatever comes to his mind, without restrictions. Donghyuck wonders how someone who laughs like he’s got the sun tickling him can think of him as bright.

A long silence falls over them as Renjun lets go of Donghyuck’s hands. He fake coughs, an amused smirk finding its way to his face, something that looks almost evil as he opens his mouth to speak. Whatever he was planning to say gets interrupted by Lucas and Jisung coming out of the changing room.

“Well, well, well, Markles,” Lucas says, almost screams. Everything about him is always almost too loud. “Your saviour is here. Ready to go home?”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes at that, but Mark laughs again as if it’s something hilarious. He doesn’t sound a single bit fake. Donghyuck is enchanted.

(Lucas offers to drive them all home as long as Renjun rides shotgun. Donghyuck makes a mental note to mock Renjun later about the way he goes unusually fidgety around Lucas, all his confidence and straightforwardness flying out the window.

He ends up sitting in the back seat, squeezed between Jisung and Mark. Mark laughs at everything that comes out of Donghyuck’s mouth, as if he’s got so much happiness inside of him, he’s overflowing with it. He laughs with his entire body, knee and shoulder and elbow pressed up shakily against Donghyuck.

It makes Donghyuck _feel_ bright, as if he’s swallowed the sun. He’s on fire.)

\- - -

Donghyuck hates lineouts and he isn’t even quite sure of what they are. But it’s something that Jaemin is in charge of and, when their coach tells him he should “jump in lineouts”, whatever the fuck that means, the silent truce between them shatters. Jaemin throws the rugby ball right at Donghyuck’s feet before he’s storming out of the field, Mark hot on his heels.

“You’ve seen what we do when the ball goes out of touch-line,” the coach explains once practice is over. Donghyuck stares at him with a blank look on his face, clueless. He sighs and keeps going, “basically, when the ball goes out of the field, two players will raise you in the air to fight for it against the other team once it gets thrown back into game. You just gotta jump, kid.” Coach pats his shoulder and adds, “we’ll start next week,” and walks past him.

“I can’t do it,” Donghyuck turns to Renjun, his cheeks flaming red, both from exhaustion and embarrassment for what he’s about to admit in front of the few players that have stayed behind. “I’m terrified of heights. No fucking way I’m doing that.”

Renjun chuckles, he comes closer and pushes a cold water bottle into Donghyuck’s hand. His other hand flies to the back of Donghyuck’s neck, rubs over it gently, the way he knows soothes him when he gets overwhelmed.

“You can do it, Hyuck,” he says, chirpy and bright and honest. “You never let anything stop you, you’re that stubborn.”

Donghyuck tries to kick him as a comeback, but Renjun squirms away with a loud laughter before he can reach him. He stares at him as Renjun hides behind Lucas’ massive body, Donghyuck takes the water bottle to his lips and raises his eyebrows as a warning, eyes dancing between Renjun and Lucas.

“Don’t play with me, Injun.”

“It’s just a little jump, seriously,” Chenle says, trying to sound reassuring, but Donghyuck isn’t buying any of it. “I tried it a few times before coach decided my position, and I’m still alive.”

“It’s safe, Hyuck,” Lucas says, and Donghyuck pulls a face, because he isn’t sure they are close enough for nicknames. Renjun flips him off, still hidden behind Lucas’ back. “Me and Jungwoo would never let you fall.”

“Hang on,” Donghyuck points at Lucas with his water bottle, cold fear starting to run up his spine, giving him goosebumps on his neck. “You and Jungwoo are supposed to lift me up in the air? You are like four meters tall! I’m not doing this shit! Do you want me to fucking die?”

Lucas laughs in his face, and Donghyuck can’t even get mad at him because he looks like an oversized puppy. He thinks back to when he had the chance to quit and didn’t take it. Damn it, Mark Lee.

“We can help you practice,” someone say from behind Donghyuck. He knows who he’s gonna find there even before he turns around.

Mark is standing there, still wearing his practice clothes, all rumpled and dirty and with droplets of water all over his flushed cheeks, his hair wet and pushed backwards. Donghyuck feels the skin of his neck heating up, his palms getting sweaty. He tells himself it is because of embarrassment, since he doesn’t know how long Mark has been standing there. It has nothing to do with the way Mark’s damp, sleeveless t-shirt clings to his body.

“What’d you mean?” Donghyuck asks. He brings the water bottle back to his lips, just to have something to do with his hands.

“You know, before practice next week, we could-” Mark stops mid sentence, slides his eyes past Donghyuck, looking behind him, then down. He speaks again with his eyes fixed on the ground. “We could help you, um. You know, practice. Before the… practice. Like, actual practice?” he makes a weird face, scrunched up nose and bared teeth. Then, he’s giggling, and Donghyuck is burning up. “Did that even make sense?” he looks up at Donghyuck then, with a hand rubbing his neck, his eyebrows raised hopefully and his eyes all wide open and _sparkling._

Donghyuck’s the one who has to look away, this time. It’s too much. He doesn’t know what, but it’s too much. He wonders if it’s too soon to know that he can’t deny anything to Mark.

“Mhm,” he mumbles, turning around to try to find Renjun with his eyes, asking for help. Renjun is already looking at him, this devilish, knowing smirk on his lips, but he’s nodding encouragingly.

“Dude, that’s such a good idea,” Lucas jumps in. And Donghyuck has never been happier to hear his strident, over excited voice, even if he is basically agreeing to Donghyuck’s death.

And that’s how they end up in a rugby field, late August, on a Saturday morning (he should’ve quitted).

Donghyuck is sleepy; and when he’s sleepy, he gets moody. And the sight of Jaemin leaning against the wall beside Mark as they stare out at the field only worsens his bad mood.

“What the fuck is he doing here?”

“No clue, man,” Lucas slaps his shoulder and shrugs, “I told Mark only.”

He crosses his arms over his chests and refuses to set a foot on the field because, again, he’s sleepy and moody and petty, and he doesn’t think he deserves to deal with this at ass in the morning. But then, Mark pushes off the wall and walks towards him, a small and apologetic smile on his lips. Donghyuck won’t be swayed by him this time, glowing eyes or not.

“Hey,” Mark says as he stops in front of him, waving with his hand awkwardly. He’s so awkward all the time, Donghyuck doesn’t understand why he makes him feel so jittery.

“Why’s he here?” Donghyuck asks instead of a proper greeting. Mark shrinks into himself.

“Um,” he looks at Jaemin over his shoulder, and Jaemin is looking straight back at them. Donghyuck hates it, hates him. “It’s his position, you know,” Mark speaks again, turning back to Donghyuck, but his eyes keep avoiding Donghyuck’s gaze. “He knows what to do better than any of us. I thought he could help.”

“Yeah, assuming he won’t sabotage this to get me killed.”

Donghyuck crosses his arms over his chest, seriously pissed off. But when Mark looks up at him again, he’s biting his lips, his cheekbones sticking out with the effort he’s trying to make to stop himself from laughing.

“Are you laughing at me, asshole?” He’s trying to sound outraged, but Mark’s laughter bubbles out of him as if he is incapable of holding it in, so Donghyuck’s voice comes out baffled.

“Oh, shit, you’re scared for real,” Mark says. His eyes go impossibly wide at the realization, but it only lasts a second before they wrinkle with laughter again, unrestrained and unashamed, this time.

Donghyuck absolutely hates the fact that he can’t even get mad at him when Mark is shining like this, so he ends up pouting in resignation.

“Don’t do that,” Mark points at Donghyuck’s face, his eyes falling to his stuck out lip. “It’s cute.”

One more time, Donghyuck is baffled at the capacity Mark has to blurt out whatever crosses his mind. Or better, the incapacity at filtering his own words. It gets quiet suddenly, Mark’s laughter gets drowned in his embarrassment. He’s back at avoiding Donghyuck’s eyes, and his cheeks are bubblegum pink. Donghyuck is sure his are matching.

“First you make fun of me, now you are complimenting me?” He jokes, because that’s the only thing he knows how to do to dig himself out of embarrassing situations. “Damn, make up your mind, Mark Lee.”

Mark smiles, tiny, but it’s there. He peeks up at Donghyuck from between his eyelashes, his head still ducked down.

“Jaemin will be nice,” he mumbles. Donghyuck is aggressively reminded of the fact that he’s supposed to be angry, discomfort settles heavy in his belly and makes him roll his eyes. “I’m serious. He promised. He’ll do it for me.”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow, both suspicious and unimpressed, trying to act as if he doesn't care. But he still asks, “for you?”

“Yeah,” Mark frowns a little and lifts his head. He looks confident in himself when he says, “Renjun would do something like this for you, wouldn’t he?”

Donghyuck is taken back to the way Jaemin talked about him and Renjun, the acrid tinge in his belly, the words that stung like a punch in the face. But Mark is looking at him with clear eyes and resolution, as if he’s convinced that Donghyuck has full understanding of that he’s talking about. As if he _knows_ how valuable Renjun’s friendship is to him. As if he gets it.

So Donghyuck gives him a wide smile, even though his legs feel like jelly and the palms of his hands won’t stop sweating. He says, “let’s conquer death.”

Mark, of course, laughs. And Donghyuck feels kinda invincible.

(Mark’s hands are incredibly hot and sweaty over Donghyuck’s sensitive thighs.

It shouldn’t matter. At least, not when he’s about to be lifted in the air for the first time, Jaemin’s critical eyes fixed on him, his mouth yelling cold and precise instructions.

But Mark’s hands are incredibly warm and gentle and they make Donghyuck’s legs shiver. Mark’s cheeks are apple red when he looks up at him from his position, kneeling on the ground in front of him. Donghyuck thinks that, maybe, he doesn’t need to be up in the air to fall.)

\- - -

Summer goes by like this: Donghyuck’s skin covered in bruises and sunburns, dirt pooling inside his rugby cleats and on the wounds of his knees. The pile of dirty clothes in his laundry basket getting bigger and bigger, his feet clanking against the asphalt as he runs all the way from uni to practice. Renjun getting on his tiptoes to ruffle his wet hair once training is over, Jisung patching up his knees and elbows and ankles. Jaemin’s bitterness melting under the hot sun, his remarks turning into polite words as September rolls by. Two people walking home with him after practice, then three, then five, then Donghyuck loses count. Lucas waiting for them with the doors of his car wide open in a silent invitation. Mark squeezing himself in the back seat, pressed up against Donghyuck from shoulder to ankle. Mark’s fist against Donghyuck’s thighs when he laughs. Mark’s feet stomping the floor whenever Donghyuck says something silly. Mark’s mouth working like a bottle of champagne popped open, spilling giggles and compliments and random thoughts he doesn’t bother to filter. Mark trying to hide his blush behind his round glasses. Mark saying “like” and “I mean” every two words. Mark biting his lips ‘till they are all chapped and peeled open, Donghyuck’s eyes falling there every single time, the upper lip is a little bit thicker, Donghyuck kinda wants to taste it.

\- - -

Fall rolls around and brings the second semester along with it. It’s the second time Donghyuck considers quitting seriously.

He feels so incredibly tired, exhaustion clings to his joints and crawls up his bones like a shiver. It settles cold in his skin and makes him roll around in bed for hours, his mind trying to work out how on earth he’s supposed to manage both practice and university when classes and training almost overlap. He keeps running all the way from uni to practice three days out of five, he gets back home around 10 pm, purple knees and purple ribs and a pile of papers to write. He goes through each day on four hours of sleep, purple painting his body everywhere, even under his eyes.

The thing is, for the first time since he joined the team, he thinks quitting would _hurt_. He’s been putting so much work into it, hasn’t missed a single practice, training on the weekends, even if he has to put up with Jaemin’s awful personality. He doesn’t want to give up before he even had the chance to play his first match. He doesn’t want to give up at all.

He keeps replaying Renjun’s voice in his head as his feet clank against the asphalt while he runs, his bag full of books and sports clothes bouncing against his sore back: _You can do it. You never let anything stop you, you’re that stubborn._

So he keeps pushing, and hopes Renjun is right.

\- - -

Donghyuck is in the back seat of Lucas’ car, trying to undo his jeans with the seatbelt on, and he’s been trying to decide if this is pure luck or a cruel joke for fifteen minutes now.

“If you don’t hurry the fuck up, coach will be having you running laps two full hours,” Renjun says, leaning over the headrest of the shotgun seat, looking at Donghyuck with an amused smile on his face. Donghyuck flips him off.

Here’s what went down: he got out of class later than usual, Lucas saw him on his way to practice, stopped to pick him up so he wouldn’t end up coughing out a lung for how fast he was running. And it sounds good, it sounds nice.

But Mark Lee was already sitting in the back seat when Donghyuck got in the car, his sports bag open on the floor and his shirt halfway over his head.

“You better get changed in the car,” Lucas said, smiling widely through the roar mirror, already changed into his training clothes. “Unless you want coach to force you to run in your jeans. We’re late.”

And that’s why Donghyuck is struggling with his damn zipper in the back seat of a car, stuck in traffic, red up to the root of his hair because probably everyone can see what’s going on inside the car through the windows. And a little bit because Mark is sitting next to him, his elbow bumping awkwardly against Donghyuck as he tries to pull down his own pants.

It’s not as if Donghyuck ever thought about Mark taking off his clothes in his presence, but if he had, it wouldn’t be this unsexy and so fucking awkward.

He tries to keep his eyes on himself as he slides his jeans down his legs, but he can hear Mark squirming next to him, his still naked shoulder pressing against Donghyuck’s clothed one as he moves around in his seat.

His hands go all jittery, and it’s pretty damn hard to replace his street pants with his sports shorts like this, but he manages somehow. He’s about to pull his shirt over his head when his elbow collides with something, probably Mark’s head. He turns around to apologize, but finds Mark sliding down in the seat, still shirtless, pants halfway down his pale thighs, one leg up in the air as he tries to take his shoe off.

The situation is so fucking ridiculous, Donghyuck can’t help the choked laughter that rolls out of his mouth, loud and high-pitched and unbelievable. Mark looks at him with his eyes wide open, almost panicked. His cheeks are burning red, no glasses to hide under.

A beat of silence goes by and then, Mark’s sneaker slips off his raised foot and falls on his face. Donghyuck is doubling over with laughter.

“Oh my god,” he hears Mark exclaim, strangled and embarrassed, but with laughter behind his tone. Donghyuck laughs until there are tears in the corners of his eyes, and he can hear Renjun and Lucas joining him.

“Oh, man,” he says after a few minutes, his chest raising up and down with heavy breaths. “You are a walking disaster.”

He looks at Mark again while he tries to dry the tears off his cheeks. Mark is looking right back at him, his lips pressed into a flat line as he tries to stop his own laughter, dimples adorning is cheeks. And that’s new, the dimples. Donghyuck has to ball his fists in his shirt to stop himself from reaching out and _touch._

“Shut the fuck up,” Mark mumbles back, so small and still incredibly embarrassed.

Donghyuck keeps looking at him, a dumb smile has settled on his lips and it refuses to leave. His cheeks ache with it, but it’s a beautiful kind of pain.

Suddenly, he’s painfully aware of the fact that he’s never been in a changing room with Mark. His eyes fall to his bare chest, flushed pink with embarrassment, a few moles scattered there. Donghyuck grows shy all of a sudden, ripping his eyes away from Mark’s body.

It shouldn’t be a big deal. He’s been sharing a changing room with his teammates for three months now, why would Mark be any different? That’s what his brain tells him, but his breath still gets caught in his throat when Mark starts to move and his bare shoulder bumps against Donghyuck again.

He finally takes his own shirt off, tries to get changed with his eyes focused on the headrest of Lucas’ seat. But he can _feel_ Mark’s eyes hot on his skin until he puts his training shirt over his head.

(When they get to practice and jump out of the car, Renjun walks towards him and pokes his cheek with a finger.

“Fuckin’ lobster,” he whispers with a teasing smirk.

Donghyuck swats his hand away and wonders why he always ends up on flames because of Mark Lee.)

\- - -

Donghyuck is running late he.

As soon as classes were over for the day, he locked himself in a bathroom stall at uni and got changed as fast as possible. Now, he’s running all the way to practice again, his heavy bag pulling painfully on his shoulders, digging into his back with every stride, his rugby boots making metallic noises against the cobbled streets as he tries not to slip and fall on his face.

He keeps wishing for Lucas to show up out of nowhere again and let him jump in the back seat, but, this time, the one who shows up to rescue him is Mark.

“Okay, hop in. Squeeze yourself in here,” he says as he stops his bike right next to Donghyuck, the wheels making an ugly squeaky noise.

Donghyuck eyes the vehicle with suspicion. Mark has lifted himself from the seat, his massive bag is tied up in the bag carrier, and Donghyuck has no idea how he’s supposed to fit himself and his own backpack in between.

“C’mon, I’ve driven Jaemin before, I can handle it,” Mark prompts at him to come closer with a hand, his eyes looking all bright and expectant. And how is Donghyuck supposed to say no to that?

“If we crash or something, I swear to god I’ll end you,” he says as he walks closer slowly. Mark has the audacity to giggle.

“You’re cute when you’re scared,” the bastard says, and this time he doesn’t even look surprised when the words leave his mouth. His cheeks are red, but he looks like he means it.

“You can keep complimenting me, I’m still going to kill you,” Donghyuck mumbles, his eyes going to the floor. Kind of ironic, Mark Lee causing him to avert his eyes in embarrassment.

He manages to fit himself in the small space and sits down in the free seat, his legs raised and stretched out on both sides of the bike. His backpack bumps against Mark’s bag awkwardly, and his chest is basically pressed up against Mark’s ass. It’s so uncomfortable and weird and Donghyuck’s neck is on literal fire. He thinks he’s about to melt, and there’s no way he can blame it on the heat.

“You better grab onto me or we will end up crashing and it will be your fault,” Mark says over his shoulder, still smiling.

Suddenly, Donghyuck is painfully aware of how gross he is from his run, sweat clinging to his back and arms. He hesitates for a second, because he doesn’t know how close he’s allowed to get when he’s sure they aren’t even considered friends. But Mark makes the decision for him. He reaches back and grabs one of Donghyuck’s arms, pulls it all the way across his hip.

“C’mon, we’re running late,” he says without looking back this time. But he doesn’t sound impatient, he sounds nervous.

It seems ridiculous, the way they are getting all fidgety and awkward over this, as if, a few days ago, they weren’t together half naked in the back seat of a car. But it’s comforting to know he isn’t alone in this, whatever this is. Mark always wakes something in Donghyuck, he doesn’t know how to name it, but it sets him ablaze and paints his skin pink. It feels new every time.

Donghyuck places both of his hands softly over Mark’s stomach, but apparently it is not enough. Mark slides his hand from Donghyuck’s forearm to his fingers, flexes his grip over Donghyuck’s fingers to force him to grab onto his shirt properly. It’s such a delicate thing, but meaningless at the same time. It still makes Donghyuck’s stomach tickle.

“Hold on tight,” Mark says with a last, long squeeze to his hand before he’s letting go to grab the handle.

Donghyuck’s body tingles all the way to practice.

(The trip is weird and uncomfortable, with Mark’s body moving awkwardly up and down against Donghyuck’s chest. He can barely breathe squeezed into the small space, his feet dragging against the asphalt occasionally.

It is probably illegal too, Donghyuck thinks distantly, since neither of them is wearing a helmet.

But Mark likes to ride fast, and the cold air that hits Donghyuck’s face makes him feel like he’s breathing properly for the first time since fall started. He’d take the same ride a million times over.)

\- - -

“Who was stupid enough to come up with this ritual bullshit?” Donghyuck asks, eyes widen as he watches Jisung kneeling on the floor of the bus, almost gagging as he takes a bite of cat food. “Like, what kinda masochist thought this was a good idea?”

“Honestly, I’ve been on the team the longest,” Johnny says, sitting in the middle of the big back seat, arms and legs spread wide like a king. “It was already going on when I got here, had to train for two hours in my underwear.”

Jisung whines from his place on the floor. He looks up at Johnny with pleading eyes, cheeks full of cat food he isn’t able to swallow down.

“I’ll do that,” he tries to speak around the food, but it comes flying out of his mouth and spills on Johnny’s pants.

“Shit! You get me dirty, you eat another can!” Johnny threatens him with a pointing finger, and almost everyone in the bus burst into laughter.

“This isn’t an initiation ritual, this is watered-down torture,” Donghyuck complains.

And, if he’s being honest, it’s kinda hard to stop himself from laughing when he stares at Jisung. He’s still kneeling, his face all red and twisted as he tries to swallow without breathing. But Donghyuck has hope that if he complains about it enough, they will drop his own initiation ritual.

He’s so pissed off at Renjun, who’s comfortably plopped in one of the bus seats, falling into Lucas’ chest with a new fit of laughter every five seconds. Today was supposed to be good and exciting, they are headed towards Donghyuck’s first game, for fuck’s sake, he should be buzzing with anticipation. But, instead, he’s dreading whatever evil plan the team comes up with for him. And Renjun didn’t even have the decency to _warn him_.

“It would’ve ruined the fun,” the traitor said when Jisung and Donghyuck complained the first time they heard about it, already trapped in the moving bus, nowhere to run to. The rest of the team had laughed and clapped Renjun in the back for that, and he had looked proud, the impostor.

“Did ya eat it all up, kid?” Johnny asks, reaching down to pat Jisung’s head, who is still on the floor before him. Jisung swats the hand away and scowls up at him. Donghyuck thinks it makes him look even more like a baby, no matter he’s four meters tall.

The bus burst into laughter again, but Taeyong is shushing them all soon enough.

“C’mon, go back to your seat,” he stretches over Johnny, grabbing Jisung’s arm to help him up. “You did well, you’re officially part of the team!”

Everyone whoops as Jisung makes his way back to his seat, right next to Donghyuck. He looks a little dizzy, but he’s smiling nonetheless.

“You’re a freak,” he tells him.

Jisung’s smile spreads wider, “nah, I’m just glad I get to see you go through this now.”

Donghyuck lets out an outraged scoff and hits him in the back of the head. “I can’t believe both of my best friends are traitors,” he mumbles. 

“Well then, Hyuckie boy,” Johnny calls, a cheerful, wicked curl to his lips. “Come over here!”

Jisung giggles as he gets up, and Donghyuck kicks him on the shin before he’s standing up in front of the back seat, hands gripping onto the backrests of the seats at his sides to stop himself from falling down.

“I don’t know who told you that you were allowed to call me Hyuckie, but you weren’t before, and definitely aren’t now that you are about to torture me.”

“Don’t be so whiny, you’re gonna have fun with this one,” Renjun says somewhere from behind him before he’s dissolving into fits of laughter again. Donghyuck doesn’t turn around to look at him, but there’s a knowing ring to his voice. The asshole probably helped them plan his ritual.

“Here, sit down,” Johnny scoots over a little bit, leaving a tiny bit of space between him and Mark in the back seat, where five people are already squished together.

Donghyuck doesn't know what he’s done in his previous life to be having to squeeze himself next to Mark Lee in tiny ass spaces. He ends up sitting half on top of Johnny, his other side pressed up against Mark’s. He can feel his skin acting up already, this warm feeling bubbling up in the base of his neck. So intense and new. He wants to rub it away, self conscious Mark will notice, sitting so close next to him. But he keeps his hands on his thighs.

“There you go,” Johnny takes Donghyuck’s hand and pops a wrapped candy into his palm.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this,” Donghyuck says more than asks, staring blankly at the sweet.

“Eat it from Mark’s mouth, obviously.”

Everything goes terribly quiet for a moment, Donghyuck can physically feel Mark tensing up next to him, his back straightening in discomfort. And then, Renjun’s high pitched laughter is cutting through the silence, everyone joins him after a heartbeat. Everyone but Mark and Donghyuck.

“What the hell?” Donghyuck raises his head, fixes his eyes on Mark’s face to find him already looking at him. “You knew about this?”

Mark’s eyes drift away as soon as Donghyuck meets his gaze, a subtle pink blush setting high on his cheeks. His hands fly to his face, he rubs his skin as if he’s trying to get rid of his embarrassment.

“I, um…” He looks past Donghyuck, probably asking Johnny to help him with his eyes. “Yeah?”

Donghyuck scoffs. “And you consent to this?” He says, baffled.

He knows he shouldn’t be getting so worked up over this. It is a joke, after all. But it doesn’t _feel_ like one, sadly. It feels heavy and important in the bottom of his stomach, and he hates the fact that he’s getting chills just for thinking about this, when it doesn’t mean _anything._

“Listen, it’s not as if I have a choice!” Mark’s pitch changes, goes higher, and it’s the first time Donghyuck has seen him so serious, so hard. At least directed at him. It’s thrilling, to be able to discover more sides of him, even after months of knowing each other. “And stop acting as if the idea disgusts you, it’s mean.”

Mark blurts it out looking right at Donghyuck, confident in his indignation, even if his skin is still painted pink.

“What do you mean you don’t have a choice?” Donghyuck asks, purposely ignoring the last part, because it is so obviously untrue it makes him a little bit weak at the knees.

But Mark doesn’t reply, he ducks his head again, embarrassment taking over every harsh line of his body.

“He failed his own ritual,” Johnny explains, laughter behind his words. “Now he has to volunteer himself for this kinda stuff, whether he likes it or not.”

“When I said this is torture…” Donghyuck mumbles, astounded. “How come you failed? It couldn’t be that bad,” he says to Mark, trying to push the image of Jisung gagging on the floor out of his mind.

Mark shoots him a blank look, then says: “They wanted me to bite one of Taeil’s foot nails. So don’t act as if your test is disgusting.”

“God fuck, you lot are sick,” he says with a groan, his head falling onto the headrest. “Okay,” he squeezes the candy in his fist before he passes it to Mark. “Let’s do this, then.”

The bus bursts into whoops and laughter, Lucas yelling “get some, Markie!” somewhere amidst all the mess. But Mark looks like he’s waiting for the ground to swallow him whole.

He’s playing with the candy between his fingers, looking at Donghyuck with his eyebrows up in his forehead, his eyes bigger than ever. He looks like a scared puppy waiting to be rescued.

“Now you’re the one acting as if this is disgusting or something,” he says, bumping his shoulder against Mark's, trying to ease up the tension. But Donghyuck is just faking it, the bundle of nerves in his stomach is tensing up his belly, making him feel a little bit dizzy.

“Okay,” Mark mumbles under his breath, his fingers working the wrap open. “Okay, here we go.”

He takes a big, nervous breath before he gets the candy into his mouth. Donghyuck stares, he can’t help it. He watches as Mark plops the red sweet on his tongue and it disappears inside of his mouth. He ignores the way his pulse jumps over a beat.

Mark moves in his seat, turns a bit to face Donghyuck properly, and places his hands over Donghyuck’s shoulders as he scoots closer. It’s such a simple touch, so innocent, and, still, it lights up Donghyuck’s skin, from his chest to his cheeks.

The bus goes idly quiet as they just stare at each other. Donghyuck doesn’t know how to go around this. Their position is uncomfortable: he’s still half sitting on top of Johnny, his body turned awkwardly towards Mark; Mark has his leg bent, his knee prodding painfully against Donghyuck’s thigh. They sway slowly with the movement of the bus, Donghyuck feels like the only thing keeping him in place is Mark’s hands, fingers digging into his shoulders harder than necessary.

He’s overthinking it, he knows he is. It doesn’t need to be perfect, it isn’t even real, it isn’t even a goddamn kiss. But Donghyuck’s heart is beating strongly in his throat despite everything, he can feel it behind his eyes, in his temples. Mark leans a little bit closer, eyes falling shut, and his thumb brushes over Donghyuck’s neck. He wonders if Mark can feel his pulse skyrocketing under his pad.

It doesn’t mean anything, so Donghyuck forces himself to keep his eyes wide open when he leans in.

He presses his parted lips against Mark’s closed ones softly, laps the tip of his tongue over his upper lip, prompting him to open up for him. It’s so sudden and harsh, the way his body years to press harder and lick over Mark’s mouth, to bite down softly on his upper lip, the way he’s been thinking about since the day he paid enough attention to notice it’s thicker than his bottom lip. But he wills himself to stay still, holding his breath as he stares at Mark’s face, his eyelashes fluttering, but his eyes stay closed.

Mark’s fingers dig harder into Donghyuck’s flesh as he opens up, sighing gently into his mouth. And it’s so tempting, the way Mark is so pliant against him now, as if he’d let Donghyuck take over and kiss him properly if he wanted to. He’d let him kiss him deep, kiss him for real.

Donghyuck’s hands find their way to Mark’s waist, he keeps them there, twisting the fabric of his t-shirt between his fingers to keep himself grounded. He slips his tongue into Mark’s warm, wet mouth slowly, and Mark _shudders_ against him.

It’s so unfair, the fact that they are doing this with the whole team watching them. Donghyuck desperately wishes this could mean something. He’s always joking around, kissing people for the hell of it, just for fun. But now, now it’s the first time he’s found himself wishing it’d mean something. It scares the living shit out of him.

But then Mark is tilting his head to the side slightly, his tongue moving to meet Donghyuck’s, brushing softly as he presses the sweet between them. Donghyuck’s thoughts fly out the window.

He keeps his eyes half open, gaze focused on the soft blush on Mark’s cheeks, on the bridge of his nose. He’s so pale and blushes so easily. Donghyuck wonders if he bruises that easily too.

Mark’s pushing Donghyuck’s tongue back into his mouth, along with the candy. It all tastes so sweet, feels like a sugar rush. He thinks he could do this forever.

But it’s over far too soon. Mark brushes his tongue over the back of Donghyuck’s teeth before he’s retreating. He’s gone so quick, Donghyuck can’t figure out if it was an accident, but it makes him raise goosebumps all the way to his toes.

What is not an accident is the tiny kiss Mark places on Donghyuck’s bottom lip before he pulls away completely, his thumbs stroking tenderly over the skin of his neck. It’s brief, feather soft, barely there. Donghyuck feels it in more than his lips.

(Donghyuck can’t even say anything after. The bus is bursting into screams again as soon as they pull apart, Johnny forcing him to turn away from Mark and open up his mouth to prove the candy is actually there.

It’s embarrassing and uncomfortable. Donghyuck feels on edge, light up from the inside, out of breath. He’s a little wobbly on his feet as he makes his way back to his seat. He feels flammable.

Jisung elbows him in the ribs as soon as he plops down next to him, a knowing smile on his lips. Donghyuck doesn’t even bother to roll his eyes at him, he just turns around, searching for Mark’s eyes.

Mark’s already looking back at him, as if he was waiting.)

\- - -

His first match isn’t near as memorable as Donghyuck thought it would be.

He spends most of the game benched, sitting down between Jisung and Yangyang, who shares position with Renjun. Yangyang and the other boys get up once in a while to yell at the ones that are playing, exasperated and frustrated because they believe they would do better if they were in the field.

Donghyuck stays sitting down, shivering slightly once their previous warm up starts to wear off. He wishes he could join the others in all that yelling, maybe that way he would feel more engaged in the team, but he doesn’t have a good enough understanding of the sport. It’s kinda unfair, to still feel so out of place when he’s already put so much effort into this.

But when they are halfway through the second part of the game, their coach turns to him and Jisung and tells them to shake the numbness off and get warm. His legs feel jelly soft as he stands on the sidelines next to coach, nerves so sharp inside of him they scratch his belly like needles.

It all fades away once he steps into the field, all the pent up tension turns into something exciting, something useful. Donghyuck gets lost between his teammates’ screams, Taeyong’s orders, the dirt that scrapes his elbows every time he tackles an opponent to the floor, the rush that goes over him when his members step over his curled up body on the ground, fighting for the ball and _winning_.

They win. Three minutes away from the final whistle and Doyoung is passing the ball straight to Mark, and he runs and runs all the length of the field, rugby ball secure between his gloved palms as he holds it in front of him, fooling opponents with the movement of his wrists as he dribbles, leaves them confused behind. He smashes the ball against the grass when he reaches the end of the field, looks up smiling, dimples and all. And he’s sweaty, flushed red, covered in mud. But he looks triumphant, like a champion. It’s the best look on him.

A few moments later, Doyoung is kicking the ball with precision, it flies right between the three goal posts, getting them three additional points. Then, the referee is blowing his whistle.

Donghyuck feels full to the brim this excitement, he feels like he’s about to start shimmering like a light up party sparkler. He runs towards Renjun and throws himself at him, and Renjun lifts him up in the air as if in natural reflex. Even if Donghyuck is the only one who is experiencing this kind of thrill, Renjun still gets it.

Everyone else is quite calm, exchanging compliments with wide smiles and hard pats on the back, congratulating each other for a good start of the season. But it is not that deep for them, because they’ve been here many times before, and what matters is the ending, not the beginning.

Still, Renjun hugs him so hard, Donghyuck doesn’t feel like he’s overreacting for a single second.

“You were amazing,” Renjun whispers in his ear before he lets him go, even though Donghyuck played for ten minutes and did the bare minimum. It makes him feel like a winner.

Only when Donghyuck turns around does he notice Jaemin walking towards them. For a second, he’s scared he’s approaching them only to say something mean, to bitch about the fact that he got replaced for Donghyuck when the match was almost over and it made no difference in the game whatsoever. But Jaemin’s got his hand outstretched, and he’s looking at Donghyuck with the same pretty, gummy smile he wore that day he made fun of him. It’s smaller today, and there’s no malice underneath this time.

Donghyuck stretches out his own hand, grabs onto Jaemin’s gloved fingers with his clammy palm, and stays still as Jaemin leans closer to bump their shoulders together. He claps Donghyuck on the back with his other hand in an awkward hug.

“Good job,” he says when he steps away. “Stay focused, you’re getting somewhere.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, he throws a thumbs up in Renjun’s way and turns around. Donghyuck watches him go, stares at Jaemin’s back as he makes his way towards Mark, who is looking back at his friend with a proud, satisfied smile on his lips.

Donghyuck will never say it out loud, but Jaemin’s handshake feels like a bigger triumph than winning the match.

\- - -

They are on their way back to the city after the game. Donghyuck’s whole body is sore, but it’s a pleasant kid, one that reminds him he’s done well today.

He’s tucked into Jisung’s side, his head resting on his shoulder as he stares at Renjun, who’s sitting on the other side of the aisle.

They are trying to decide who was the man of the match and, of course, like the good fucking friend he is, Donghyuck voted for Renjun. Now, it is tied between Mark, Doyoung and Lucas. Renjun is the only one left to vote, and Donghyuck knows what he’s gonna say even before he opens his mouth.

“Lucas!” He yells out, smiling wide. Blatant favoritism, if you ask Donghyuck.

The entire bus starts clapping, and Lucas, radiant and electric as always, grabs Renjun’s cheeks between his massive hands and plants a kiss against on lips.

It happens so fast: one second Renjun is sitting there, smiling peacefully, and the next he’s all tensed up, his cheeks flaming red, eyes fixed on his hands as the bus screams louder and louder. Lucas keeps smiling as if he hasn’t done anything out of the ordinary. He gets up on his knees in his seat, exchanges a few congratulatory handshakes and fist bumps before he’s slumping down again, his arm draped over Renjun’s shoulders, encouraging him to curl into his side and hide his embarrassment in his chest.

Donghyuck doesn’t want to admit it, but they are so fucking cute. He laughs it off, takes his phone out to sneak a picture of them, “to use it as blackmail later,” he tells Jisung. But, in reality, Renjun looks so small tucked under Lucas’ side, it’s fucking adorable.

“Don’t worry, cheetah,” Donghyuck hears Taeyong say from the back seat. “You did well, maybe next time.”

“I don’t care!” Mark explains, high pitched, the way he sounds when he’s embarrassed.

Something inside of Donghyuck tells him that being able to recognize Mark’s mood only by the sound of his voice is not a good thing, that he should be worried. But he pushes the thought aside and turns around in his seat to ask: “Why cheetah?”

He’s heard it around before, usually out of Taeyong’s mouth, Johnny sometimes, too. They use it to cheer on Mark during practice whenever they can’t reach him to pat him on the back.

“Haven’t you looked at him?” Taeyong stretches himself from where he’s seated and over Johnny’s lap, trying to reach Mark to pat his cheek fondly. Mark scrunches up his nose as he tries to swat his hand away, his teeth bared in a snarl that looks more endearing than threatening. “There it is! The nose scrunch! Baby cheetah,” Taeyong says with a delightful giggle, and Donghyuck can’t help but laugh along with him. That’s the effect he has on people.

“It’s like his official nickname,” Johnny explains meanwhile he tries to push Taeyong off his lap at the same time. “Actually, most of us have one. It’s like a team thing.”

“How come we don’t have one?” Donghyuck frowns. He looks back at Jisung for support, but he finds him fast asleep, his head resting against the bus window.

“Hyuck’s should be something like sunflower,” Renjun says. “He’s obsessed with them.”

Donghyuck is about to complain, about to tell him to stop oversharing stuff about him and pay attention to his boyfriend, but Mark speaks before he can get the words out.

“That suits him, actually,” he tells Renjun, as if Donghyuck isn’t right there. “How about Haechan? Like, full sun, you know? I mean, since he’s like. He’s bright and stuff.”

Mark is so damn red. He’s looking everywhere but at Donghyuck, the fingers of his left hand playing with his right, trying to crack his knuckles just to have something to do. Donghyuck would tease him for it, but he knows his cheeks are just as pink.

Taeyong giggles again, louder than before, as if he knows something.

“And stuff,” repeats Johnny, looking at Mark with a raised eyebrow and a crooked smile. Mark hides his face behind his hands and slides down his seat, laughing under his fingers.

“Can we move on?” He says, his fingers rubbing at his cheeks.

He refuses to meet Donghyuck’s eyes throughout the rest of the drive home, and Donghyuck appreciates it. One look and he might combust.

(It becomes an inside joke.

“Haechan and stuff!”

Johnny screams it across the field almost every day at practice. Donghyuck flips him off, but he’s always beaming, a witty comeback ready on the tip of his tongue.

Mark giggles every single time. And Donghyuck thinks the word bright might have been invented to describe him.)

\- - -

Fall goes by like this: they lose their first match and smile through gritted teeth; Donghyuck jokes all the way home, ignores the acute pain in the joints of his knees, in the plant of his feet, between his lungs. Endless bus rides to games, his head bumping against the hard glass as he tries to catch up on sleep, purple shadows settling permanently under his eyes. The sound of dry leaves crunching under his feet as he runs to practice, Donghyuck’s grades dropping as he starts to skip class to get there in time. Renjun lecturing him every single day, Donghyuck promising to do better, and failing every time. Having to quit practice on weekends to study with Jisung, Jaemin turning colder as winter rolls by. Fall coming to an end and painting everything gray, taking all the colors with it, but the red in Mark’s cheeks. Mark’s cheeks dimpling when they share a meal with the opposite team after games. Mark screaming “oiiii” every time he gets excited. Mark’s nails getting raspy from all the anxious biting he does before every match. Donghyuck holding Mark’s fingers between his in the changing room to stop him from taking them to his mouth. Mark squeezing his hands so hard Donghyuck can’t feel the cold. Mark saying “you did so well” every time Renjun says “you have to do better” and Donghyuck getting stuck in between, feeling half bright. Donghyuck’s tongue lapping over his own bottom lip, swearing he can still taste Mark there.

\- - -

Right after new year, during winter break, they fly out of Korea.

They jump into a plane together on a Sunday at eight in the morning, headed to Lisbon for a week long tournament. The trip is long and uncomfortable, Donghyuck’s limbs end up all numb, his legs tingling after being crammed into a small space for thirteen hours, his back aching sharply. But he’s still incredibly excited, stiff and cramped and unbelievably sleepy, but so damn excited, because he’s never seen their coach and Taeyong so convinced that they could win something. And, even if it’s a small, friendly tournament with no importance, the prospect of getting his first official title makes his hands tickle with greed and enthusiasm. This is why he joined the team in the first place, to win and to be able to do it next to Renjun.

That’s why when they get to the hostel and finds out they are too poor to afford beds for everyone, he doesn’t even have the energy to get angry.

He throws his bag in the floor of the bedroom he’s gonna be sharing with Jisung and Renjun and flops down in one of the beds.

“Okay, me and Renjun are sharing,” he says, looking up at his friends, “Jisung is too big.”

Jisung frowns at him, but Renjun is speaking before he can complain.

“Actually, I’m gonna be sharing with-”

“Hello, my dear friends!” Lucas screams as he kicks the door open, his both hands occupied by two massive bags.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jisung groans, flopping down next to Donghyuck, his bony elbow digging into his side. But Donghyuck is too tired to complain.

“Did you think I’d pass on the opportunity to share a bed with Injun for a whole week?”

It stings a little, to hear Injun in someone’s mouth, in a voice that isn’t Jisung’s or Donghyuck’s own. But it has become the nickname everyone in the team uses for Renjun. Donghyuck feels a little bit robbed, as if they’ve stripped him from something important he used to own. But he knows it’d be childish to complain.

“I swear to god, if you do something nasty I’m throwing all your stuff out the window,” Jisung mumbles as he curls into himself. He always does this when he gets tired, tries to make his body as small as possible to fit under Donghyuck’s arm.

Lucas cackles loudly as an answer, and then he’s tackling Renjun into the other bed. Donghyuck doesn’t even know why Lucas is still alive, with all the tackling and pulling and blushing he does with Renjun, someone else wouldn’t have lasted more than a week messing around like that with him. Blatant favoritism, he thinks again.

“Don’t you have friends to room with? You’re always ditching Mark for Injun,” Donghyuck asks.

He props himself up on his elbow to lie on his side. He starts to pet Jisung’s already messy hair, stares at the way his fingers tangle in the strands and he wonders if Mark ever gets jealous of Renjun.

“Mark’s perfectly fine,” Lucas grunts, trying to get comfortable in bed as he curls all his long limbs around Renjun, like an oversized octopus. A cute one, Donghyuck has to admit. “Left him cuddling with Nana.”

Donghyuck frowns at the cute nickname, Jaemin’s nickname. The words come out of his mouth before he can do anything to stop them.

“Are they dating or something?”

Everything goes quiet for a second. Donghyuck stills his fingers in Jisung’s hair when he realizes what he just said out loud. And then Jisung is blinking his sleepy eyes open, staring up at him with a lazy, teasing smile.

“Shut the fuck up, brat,” Donghyuck pulls at his hair, but Jisung giggles anyway.

“Do you remember,” Lucas starts, hiding his smile against Renjun’s neck, “when you got pissed off because Jaemin assumed there was something going on between you and Renjun?” Donghyuck hums. “You sound exactly as dumb as Jaemin did back then.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Donghyuck groans, his forehead falling against Jisung’s shoulder. He hates the fact that he knows Lucas is right. He could see right through Mark every time he talked about Jaemin. He knows what a friendship bordering family feels and looks like.

“Don’t get all mopey,” Jisung pats his head gently, sleep dragging his words. “Y’know Mark thinks you’re cuter.”

Donghyuck’s first instinct is to ask, _does he?_ But he catches his words in time, this time. He bites down his tongue, hard. Then says: “'Course he does,” against the fabric of Jisung’s shirt. “I’m the cutest in the team.”

“Sure you are,” Renjun laughs, but Donghyuck doesn't bother to lift his head to look up at him. “And the biggest pain in the ass.” His voice drips fondness everywhere.

\- - -

Three days into their trip and four won matches later, Donghyuck is stricken by the realization of the amount of trivial facts he knows about Mark.

They are watching two other teams playing against each other, whoever wins will be against them tomorrow. Donghyuck is sitting between Jeno and Mark, and his hand reaches out on his own to search for Mark’s blindly, knowing full well he’s gonna be eating his nails during the last five minutes of the game if no one stops him. Mark goes a little stiff under Donghyuck’s touch, but he still laces their fingers together, his tips ice cold against the back of Donghyuck’s hand, but it makes his belly poodle with warmth.

He finds himself going out of his way to do things for Mark, and it’s such an unconscious, natural reflex. He always makes sure there’s enough chocolate cereal left for Mark at breakfast, because Donghyuck knows Mark’s obsessed with it. He always reminds Mark to pick up his blue wristband before they leave the hostel, because he knows it’s a lucky charm, and Mark can’t play without it. He always makes sure to take his sunglasses with him so he can pass them to Mark if the sun sneaks out between the usually cloudy sky, because Mark’s eyes are sensitive to the sun.

It’s kinda terrifying to even stop to think about it, because the only people who does these things for are Renjun and Jisung. And Mark is not at that level, not even close. Renjun picks up on it, too. He keeps sending him these small, knowing smiles, and Donghyuck wishes he would just spill already, tell him whatever he knows that Donghyuck doesn’t, because he feels like he’s spiralling out of control.

And Donghyuck. Donghyuck doesn’t even know how or when nor _why_ he’s gathered this information. But he does know that he wouldn’t be able to stop, not even if he wanted to.

(And then, there is Mark carrying his own nintendo switch with him, the one he hasn’t used more than twice, Lucas’ words, in case Donghyuck gets bored of the rugby matches he’s supposed to be paying attention to and wants something else to do.

He’s still spiralling, but it doesn't feel as scary when you know you’re not the only one.)

\- - -

Donghyuck fucks up and they lose in the quarter finals.

He isn’t even sure how it happens, exactly. Suddenly, the ball is between his fingers, the field wide open before him, the last minute of the match ticking by slowly. The only thing he needs to do is run and smash the ball into the ground when he reaches the end of the field, and they’ll be semi finalists. It is that easy.

But one moment he’s running, and the next second his left knee is getting stuck. He can’t move, can’t bend his leg, a white pain shooting through his thigh all the way up the bottom of his spine. He doesn’t even have time to scream, to ask for help or pass the ball, because he’s being tackled to the ground before he can react.

The opposite team steals the ball, gets the last 5 points of the match, and stands as champion.

He gets up carefully, tries to move and stretch his leg slowly, resting his weight on it once he checks it doesn’t hurt anymore. The pain is gone now, as if it appeared at the perfect time to make him lose the game and left as soon as the job was done. He’s still looking down at his knee, trying to figure out what the hell happened, when Jaemin crashes into him, his hands pushing harshly against Donghyuck’s shoulders, sending him a few steps backwards.

“What the fuck is up with you?” Jaemin is screaming, coming closer again with the clear intention of shoving a confused Donghyuck again. Yuta stops him just in time, a stern hand clasped on Jaemin’s shoulder, but the disappointed look he shoots Donghyuck’s way tells him he isn’t on his side.

“You quitted training on weekends for this shit? I should've known you don't give a single fuck.”

“Shut up,” Donghyuck says, stretching out a hand. His palm pressed flat against Jaemin's chest when he takes one more step closer. “Just. Shut the fuck up. You know nothing.”

“What is there to know, huh?” Jaemin swats his hand away, but Yuta's grip on his shoulder gets stronger, so he can't keep getting into Donghyuck's personal space.

“Jaemin,” Yuta says, like a warning. “Calm down, kid.”

“No! I don't want to calm down! He just fucking blew up all our chances to get the first title of the season!” He moves his attention from Yuta and back to Donghyuck, his index finger digging into the sore muscle of his chest. “I hope you are proud of yourself.”

“Of course I'm not, asshole,” Donghyuck growls between gritted teeth. He slaps Jaemin's hand away, “and don't touch me.”

He's getting overwhelmed. The rest of the team starts to run towards them, probably curious for all the screaming, and most of them are wearing these disappointed faces, like a sad mask of defeat. And Donghyuck knows. He knows it is his fault only.

He spots Renjun, who is staring at him with worried eyes, a frown settled between his eyebrows, as if he's ready to jump in and fight for Donghyuck at any second. And Donghyuck feels so incredibly thankful, because he can always count on Renjun, even when he doesn't deserve it.

Mark is there too, eyes downcast, fixed on the ground. He winces painfully when Jaemin speaks up again.

“You never gave a fuck. I actually believed you for a few days back then, when you put up a show and decided to get some work done on the weekends. But you clearly don't care.”

“Stop talking as if you know shit about me!” Donghyuck's voice raises. He hates that Jaemin can get a rise out of him so easily, but he's being so unfair right now. And Donghyuck is overflowing with anxiety, too many eyes pinning him down. He feels dissected. “It's not that I don't care, it's that you are obsessed! Maybe if you realized there is more to life than rugby you wouldn't be so damn bitter all the time.”

“You don't get to talk to me like that,” Jaemin says, his voice going lower, colder. He looks like he's been slapped, as if Donghyuck has started this fight and dumped all this on him without warning. As if he hasn't been practically begging for this since the first day. Donghyuck is sick of it.

“Oh, why?” He asks, cruel and mocking and condescending. “Because you got it so hard, right?”

Mark makes an ugly noise somewhere behind Jaemin and Donghyuck realizes he's shared something he wasn't supposed to when Jaemin's eyes get all hard. But he's way past caring now, blood running hot with anger, even if the weather is piercing cold.

“I don't care whatever issue you've got, you don't get to act like a prick towards me for no reason,” he says, and he shoves Jaemin out of the way with his shoulder, the same way he did that time they fought during practice. “No one even thought of asking if I was fine,” he says as he starts to walk out of the field, “as if I lost on purpose or some shit. Dickheads.”

He steps out of the field and, this time, Mark doesn't run after him. It's not like Donghyuck needs him to, anyway. He isn't quitting, he won't let Jaemin or anyone else bring him down that easily. Renjun was right after all, he is that stubborn. 

\- - -

Later that day, after Donghyuck spends a good couple of hours hiding in Renjun's chest, Jisung checking his knee, patching it up for good measure even if it doesn't hurt anymore, he decides to go outside to get some fresh air.

It's late already, the sky is pitch black, his breath forms white clouds against the night. He takes Lucas' rugby ball out with him and bounces it against the wall of the hostel, cold fingers struggling to catch it and stop it from rolling to the road.

Mark joins him a few minutes later. He doesn't say anything, he just rests his side against the wall as he stares at Donghyuck, his eyes hot over the skin of his arms. His gaze is so intense Donghyuck can feel it underneath his thick hoodie, he hates it.

“What do you want?” He asks when it gets too much to manage, tension so thick it makes his mouth go dry.

He doesn't turn to look at Mark, but he doesn't have to do that to know that he's already averting his eyes towards the floor, probably running a hand over his blushed neck. He blushes so easily, even under the cold weather. It always looks so pretty on him, the red shadow on his nose, under his jaw. It's not fair.

When Mark starts to stutter, Donghyuck stops him before he can keep going.

“If you are here to excuse Jaemin's shitty behaviour, you can keep it. I don't wanna hear it.”

“But, he-”

“No buts, Mark,” Donghyuck turns around now, his fingers flexing tightly over the rough surface of the ball.

And Mark looks so vulnerable. He's wrapped up in a thick jacket that looks way too big for him, covers him down to his knees, up to his nose, his blush hiding underneath. He doesn't even look angry, not even after Donghyuck slipped up and let Jaemin know that Mark talked to Donghyuck about him probably behind his back. It's as if Mark doesn't know how to get mad. And it makes Donghyuck feel double times worse, because he's driving fast on anger and doesn't know how to hit the brakes.

“You always ask me to give him another chance because I don't know what he went through, but do you all know what I go through? You don't know shit.”

It hurts, the fact that the words ring so true in his mouth hurts. Even if he knows all these small facts about Mark, does he know anything that actually matters? Does Mark know him at all? He thinks back to the day he thought he could never deny anything to this boy, and it's kinda scary how unlikely that seems right now. Maybe they were never spiralling after all. Maybe all the burning was only in his mind.

He can't take the look Mark sends his way, hurt and aware of the truth in Donghyuck's words. So understanding and pained. Donghyuck presses the rugby ball against Mark's chest, and he shivers when Mark's arms come up to hold onto it and he accidentally touches Donghyuck's hand. But he lets go and steps back inside.

“Wait,” Mark says behind him. Donghyuck stops dead in his tracks, because, after all, he’s never been as tough as he acts out. “How's your knee?”

He's taken aback for a second, because it stopped hurting so long ago, he almost forgot that Jisung got it all patched up anyway. He looks down at his leg, then back up at Mark, and smiles for the first time since he got off the field.

“I'm good, Mark. Don't worry.”

Donghyuck is about to turn around again to leave, but Mark speaks up again.

“I do, you know?” He says. He waits for an answer, but Donghyuck only tilts his head in confusion. “Worry, I mean. Always. Always do that. And care, too. For the record.”

Mark clears his throat awkwardly, ducks his head into the long collar of his massive jacket. Donghyuck smiles at him, because how could he not?

“Alright, worry bug,” he says, and giggles when Mark scrunches up his nose at the pet name. It makes Mark smile back, and Donghyuck feels like the world tilts back into the right angle.

What a powerful thing it is to make someone special smile.

\- - -

When they go back home things shift for the worse for a while. Donghyuck feels like he's back to those first days of practice, Jaemin doesn't even look his way, and many other of his teammates are still pissed off because they blame their loss on him.

And, no matter how many times Renjun tells him that it wasn’t his fault and that he could’ve gotten seriously hurt and that he can’t control when his body acts up, Donghyuck blames himself, too.

It doesn't bother him that much, he has always known he can handle almost everything as long as Renjun and Jisung stick by him.

But Jaemin keeps stealing Mark away from them, from him. It's a weird choice of words. How can Jaemin steal Mark away from him when Mark hasn’t been his in any way, ever. Mark will never be anyone's. And Donghyuck has never stood a chance against Jaemin, anyway.

(“Does he even have a personality?” Chenle says when Mark waves at them one day on his way to the other changing room, trailing behind Jaemin.

Jeno smacks the back of his head, “be fucking nice.”

“Mark is just way too nice,” Lucas says with a loud laugh, pushing everyone to rush them into the changing room. “He doesn’t want to leave Nana alone.”

“Unlike other really bad friends who choose hoes over bros,” says Jisung, smiling up at Lucas when he flips him off.

“I see them all the time out of practice. Believe me, they don’t miss me too much.”

“Who would ever miss your annoying ass,” Renjun says, and he ends up rolling his eyes when Lucas looks at him pointedly, his eyebrows high on his forehead.

“Don’t think Mark agrees with everything Jaemin says,” Lucas says, talking to Donghyuck this time. “He’s just trying to be a good friend. The poor guy wants to befriend everyone, but always ends up dragged into petty fights.”

There’s a bunch of defensive stuff piling up under Donghyuck’s tongue, something along the lines of _I didn’t start the petty fight_ and _I’d know these things if I could actually get to know him_.

But shrugs his shoulders and says, “I didn’t ask shit.”

When, actually, what he means is _tell me more_.)

\- - -

Donghyuck knows there’s something wrong with his left knee, he’s known him for a couple of weeks now. It has never gotten _stuck_ again, but it feels rusty, creaking like an old machine.

He stays quiet, though. Despite the angry looks Jisung throws him whenever he catches him limping for a second, he keeps his mouth shut. Because they’ve already lost a game because of him, and he doesn’t want the team to be one man down, he doesn’t want to cause any more trouble.

But in the next home game, he gets into the field in Jaemin’s place for the second half, and he _knows_ there’s something wrong the second his feet leave the grass during the first lineout.

Jungwoo and Lucas hold him up perfectly secure, they’ve never let him fall once since he started jumping for them, but this irrational fear takes over him since the first time he jumped, all those months ago, with Mark’s hands hot against his thighs. He loses his focus, and loses the lineout, and then loses his balance when he’s back on the ground. He keeps losing, losing, _losing_. And now he can’t even get up.

The game keeps moving around him, but he is not able to force his leg to react, no matter how hard he pushes himself off the ground with his fists.

Panic takes over him for a second. Everyone is running around him, they can stomp over him at any moment, he’s stuck in time, in pain, useless the way he always swore he was not.

He looks over at the bench with desperation, and it seems like coach gets it. He says something to the players sitting there, and then Jaemin gets up from his seat and breaks into a run. He borders the entire field as fast as he can until he gets to the other side, where Donghyuck is sitting down next to the white line that signals the border of the pitch.

“Is it your knee?” He asks as he crouches down, arms already reaching out to wrap them around Donghyuck. And he would think the worry in Jaemin’s tone is fake if he couldn’t see it painted so clearly all over his face.

“Yeah, the left one,” Donghyuck replies, a little dazed. He holds onto Jaemin with his arms around his neck, and Jaemin picks him up as if he’s feather light.

It’s awkward, having his face so close to Jaemin at a moment like this, Jaemin’s arms wrapped around his back and under his legs when Donghyuck feels so exposed. But Jaemin’s snarky remarks never come. He just clicks his tongue and shakes his head as he takes Donghyuck back to the bench.

He settles him down so gently in a seat and crouches in front of him to check his knee.

“It’s pretty swollen,” he says, fingers tracing Donghyuck’s skin softly. “Has it been bothering you for a while?” Donghyuck just nodes, and Jaemin clicks his tongue one more time, but it’s more of a concerned sound than an annoyed one. Donghyuck is so confused.

Jaemin gets up from his crouch mumbling _I’ve gotta get the doctor_ while he looks around. But he sets his eyes back on Donghyuck after a second, his face pinched as if he’s battling with himself.

“You should’ve said something sooner if it’s been bothering you for a while,” he says. Donghyuck frowns, ready to get into another fight, to remind him that he didn’t say anything because Jaemin jumped on him the first time this happened. But Jaemin speaks up before he can. “Please, never dismiss your health like that. You need to take care of yourself, you can get really hurt in this sport.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Donghyuck scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I’m serious,” Jaemin says with a pointed look. “You have to take better care of yourself. I’m sorry if I was too harsh on you. I’ll help more, I’ll go easier.”

Donghyuck is so incredibly confused now, he’s rendered speechless for almost an entire minute. He will never admit out loud that being cared for like this feels nice, warm in the pit of his stomach. But he won’t let Jaemin get the last word, either.

“I can take care of myself perfectly fine,” he says, purposefully ignoring the fact that if he’s like this now is because he neglected his wellbeing. “I don’t need _you_ to go easy on me.”

And Jaemin. Jaemin _laughs_ , chirpy and genuine, his lips parting into that pretty, gummy smile.

“Whatever you say, tough guy,” he says, still grinning. And then leaves to get a doctor, leaving Donghyuck baffled behind him.

(Mark is next to him as soon as the referee whistles the end of the game. His face is all creased in concern, a bag of ice between his gloved fingers as he presses it against Donghyuck’s swollen knee as softly as he can.

“It’s only tendonitis,” Donghyuck giggles at his worry, feeling so endeared he can feel himself flushing pink. “I’m sure half of the team has gone through this, I only need rest.”

Mark frowns up at him, pinches Donghyuck on the exposed thigh of his right leg as a reprimand. Donghyuck yelps, staring at Mark with his eyes open wide in surprise. But Mark doesn’t look back at him, he’s too busy staring at the way Donghyuck’s tan skin tinges red where he pinched it.)

\- - -

On their way back home, Mark slides into the seat next to Donghyuck before Jisung can get there. He offers one of his headphones and keeps the bag of ice pressed against Donghyuck’s knee, so he can doze off if he wants to.

They’ve gone past the middle of winter already, so it gets dark early, and it gets cold always. Donghyuck gets sleepy in the bluish darkness of the bus, he starts to shiver halfway through their way back, and Mark drapes his massive jacket over Donghyuck’s upper body with no words.

He falls asleep to Frank Ocean singing softly in his ear and dreams of big twinkling eyes.

_I'd do anything for you, anything for you (in the dark)._

\- - -

Coach forces Donghyuck to promise he’ll rest for at least two weeks, so his knee can recover completely. But that doesn’t mean he won’t show up to practice anyway, now matter how much Renjun complains about the fact that the way from uni to the field is too long.

But it doesn’t end up being a problem, anyway. Because the following Sunday after the match, Donghyuck comes out of his faculty after class to find Mark Lee waiting at the bottom of the stairs, already changed into his training clothes, gloved fingers wrapped tight around the handles of his bike, glassless eyes looking around, wide open and confused as he scans the crowd.

“Well, who do we have here?” Donghyuck says when he approaches, his arms crossed over his chest so he can’t play with his fingers the way he always does when he gets nervous. “You ditched Jaemin for me?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. It comes out as a joke, but the smirk Mark shows him tells him he knows better.

“Jaemin can walk,” Mark says, lifting his body from the seat to make room for Donghyuck, “unlike you.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes at him in fake annoyance, but a smile sneaks his way to his mouth even if he doesn’t want it to.

“Can all of you stop acting like I lost a leg or something?” He slips into the small space between Mark. He wraps his arms around his waist tightly, feels him giggle right against his chest. Donghyuck’s skin simmers under the cold breeze. “How did you know I was planning on showing up to practice, anyway?”

“Can you stop acting like I don’t know you?” Mark shoots back, looking at him over his shoulder.

Donghyuck pinches his side, it makes Mark yelp loudly and high-pitched, cheeks already flooding with red. Donghyuck wonders what kind of noises he could draw out of him if he was allowed to explore.

He shakes his head and says, “for real. Even if you know me, you can’t read my mind, we aren’t at that point.”

“Yet,” Mark turns around again, wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Donghyuck has to pinch him again.

“Where did my shy blushy boy go?” He scoffs, stunned. Then giggles when Mark ducks his head, overcome by shyness, the way Donghyuck is used to.

It fills him up with this gentle warmth in his chest, like melted caramel, the way he can always press the right buttons to turn Mark into a flustered mess, to make him drip between his fingers like honey. And it’s always so new. Making people embarrassed and testing their limits has always been one of Donghyuck’s pastimes, but it’s never felt like this, like it mattered. Donghyuck feels brand new.

“Lucas told me,” Mark says quietly.

He starts the bike without turning around again, and Donghyuck tightens his arms around him, dares to press his smile between Mark’s shoulder blades, wishes he could stay there for a long while.

“What does Jaemin do when you don’t drive him, though?” Donghyuck wants to keep the conversation going, even if he has to speak louder than usual so Mark can hear him over the wind.

“He walks or Lucas takes him,” Mark half-shouts back.

Donghyuck hums, his cheek still pressed against Mark’s back even if it’s uncomfortable with the way he bounces when he pedals.

“Why does he dislike me?” He asks next. The words are out of his mouth before he himself can process the question.

Mark tenses up against him, his feet slowing down. He doesn’t stop, but he goes quiet for a long time before he says:

“He does not. I know you don’t like to hear it, but he’s got it hard,” he explains. Donghyuck hums again to let him know he’s listening. He knows Mark can probably hear the vibration of his throat against his back, the thought makes his neck warm. “He got a scholarship playing rugby, almost lost it two years ago because he broke his leg. It took him a lot of time and hard work to get back in form. He almost had to quit the team. And university.” Mark stops to shoot Donghyuck a worried look over his shoulder. “I’m only telling you this because I think you deserve an explanation. It’s just. It’s nothing against you, personally. It’s deeper than this, but he hates it when people don’t take the sport seriously. Because it has given him a lot.” He stops talking again, and Donghyuck thinks he’s done, but then he adds, “it’s taken a lot from him too. Don’t tell him I said any of this, though.”

There’s urgency in Mark’s tone, he’s probably thinking back to when Donghyuck slipped up during his last fight with Jaemin. He pinches Mark’s sides again, but he does it gently, this time. The line of Mark’s shoulders relaxes a bit.

“I won't tell. Promise,” Donghyuck says. Mark nods, as if believing his word is that easy, as if Donghyuck hasn’t failed him before. “Good to know he doesn’t hate my guts. I just wanna get along.”

Mark stops abruptly, then. Donghyuck yells in surprise, his fingers fisting into Mark’s hoodie to stop himself from falling down.

“Dude, what the hell?”

“Are you into Jaemin or something?” Mark asks, out of the blue. He’s still looking ahead, probably too embarrassed to hold eye contact. Donghyuck can see the way his neck has gone pink, the blush disappearing under his clothes.

It’s such a dumb question, Donghyuck can’t help the astounded cackle that crawls out of his throat.

“What the fuck, Mark Lee? Your head works interesting ways,” he says, a little breathless with laughter.

That’s what makes Mark turn around to face him, his eyebrows all scrunched up in annoyance, but he can’t look threatening with his cheeks flaming red. Donghyuck laughs louder, and Mark punches his shoulder with little to no heat under it.

“Shut up and just answer, would you?”

“Don’t tell me you are one of those people who think that when someone is mean to you is because they like you,” Donghyuck teases, cheeks tingling because of how wide he is smiling. “That’s some primary school bullshit, Mark.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Mark complains, his eyes avoiding Donghyuck’s again, staring down at his foot over the pedal.

He looks cute like this, all shy and kind of vulnerable. Donghyuck is feeling brave, because he can read jealousy written in every single tense line of Mark’s body in bold capital letters.

So he licks his lips and says, “maybe I need to start throwing some insults your way, then.”

Mark’s head snaps up so fast, eyes even wider than usual, ears red.

“What does that mean?”

Donghyuck smiles with his tongue between his teeth. Mark’s eyes fall there so easily, so obviously, as if he isn’t able to catch himself. Or as if he’s so far gone he doesn’t even care, anymore. Donghyuck feels made of dynamite.

“It means you’re dense as fuck,” he says.

Mark’s eyes go back to his, and Donghyuck makes a show of looking him up and down. Mark’s Adam's apple bobs in his throat, Donghyuck aches with the need to sink his teeth there.

Instead, he digs his fingers into Mark’s sides again and says: “Get moving, dumbass. We’re gonna be late.”

(They are late and coach makes Mark run laps for half an hour. Donghyuck tries to make him trip whenever Mark runs past him, and Mark flips him off every single time.

Donghyuck thought practice would feel like torture, having to stand on the sidelines for two hours, staring uselessly like some broken puppet.

But he laughs like a little kid, full of spark and feather light.)

\- - -

Winter goes by like this: Donghyuck sitting out practice until February, wrapping himself in Jisung’s big sweaters to try to stop himself from shivering under the cold wind. Jaemin stopping in front of him on his way to the changing room, crouching down to take a look at his knee, patting his thigh warmly when he reminds him to take care of himself. Lucas kicking Renjun out of the passenger seat of his car, so Donghyuck can sit there on the way back home and stretch out his leg comfortably. Mark showing up to Donghyuck’s university to take him to practice, wearing that bigass jacket that covers him from nose to knees. And Mark showing up to Donghyuck’s university to take him home when there is no practice. Donghyuck miraculously passing all his exams (by miracle, he means Jisung’s tutoring), and Mark showing up at his house with his bike for the hell of it. Mark and Donghyuck sharing headphones and Frank Ocean singing between them ( _do you think about me still? do ya, do ya? or do you not think so far ahead? ‘cause i been thinking ‘bout forever_ ). Donghyuck and Mark getting caught in the rain, Mark taking off his big jacket to drape it over Donghyuck’s shoulders, Donghyuck digging his fingers into the warm flesh of Mark’s hips as he counts the moles scattered on his neck over and over and over again. Mark talking about the possibility of mermaids being real, and about how he wants to build a house made of lego, and about that time he bathed himself in coca-cola when he was five years old, and about how he’d love to become a translator in the future. And:

“You wanna teach to little kids? You’d be so good, Haechanie. Since you’re practically one of them.”

“Don’t test me, I’ll push you off the bike.”

“Do it, you’ll fall with me.”

And Donghyuck thinking: _I already did_.

\- - -

Donghyuck doesn’t even realize their friend groups have collided until one day Jaemin drags Mark to Donghyuck’s changing room.

“So,” he says, already pulling his sweated t-shirt over his head. “Since spring semester has already started and we’re gonna be stressed out with school work and practice…”

“Why are you talking as if you ever do anything for uni?” Lucas interrupts him.

Jaemin throws his dirty t-shirt at him without even looking at his face.

“Everyone but Lucas is invited to my house this Saturday. There’s gonna be alcohol and weed. Jisung and Chenle can only come if his parents allow it. By parents I mean Renjun and Jeno.”

“We’re not little kids,” Chenle says at the same time that Lucas screams: “You know I know where you keep the spare key, right?”

Jaemin flips them both off, smiles at Donghyuck brightly, “so?”

“Only if you let Lucas in, so he can drive me home when I get too fucked up to walk straight.”

Jaemin throws himself at Donghyuck, shirtless and sweaty and gross. Donghyuck hugs him back.

\- - -

Mark truly can’t hold his liquor. That’s a new thing Donghyuck adds to his list of little facts about Mark Lee during Saturday night.

They’ve been at Jaemin’s for hours now, but Mark has been glued to his side since the very beginning. Donghyuck has been keeping count of his and Mark’s drinks, a habit he’s picked up for all the times he’s gone out with Renjun, to stop him to get so shitfaced he can’t remember anything the following morning.

Three beers, that’s what Mark has drank so far, and he’s all giggly and red and burning up. And you’d think that’s Mark’s usual state, an almost permanent blush on his cheeks and laughing at everything that happens around him. But he’s incredibly _clingy,_ and that’s a side of him Donghyuck hasn’t seen before. It is exciting, the amount of different faces that build up Mark Lee and that Donghyuck has yet to discover. He decides he really likes this one.

They are sitting on Jaemin’s couch, thighs pressed up together, and Mark is wearing this grey hoodie that opens in the front with a zipper, he keeps trying to get Donghyuck wrapped in it.

“Your hands are so cold,” he keeps saying, words slurred already, speaking so close to Donghyuck’s face he can smell the alcohol in his breath. “C’mere.”

He gives up trying to fit the two of them in the hoodie and starts trying to get Donghyuck’s hands in the holes of his sleeves. Donghyuck lets him, threads his fingers between Mark’s warm ones, holds on tight as he tries not to spiral out of control.

“Let’s smoke,” Mark says out of nowhere, throwing his head back in an open cackle, as if it’s the most hilarious idea he’s ever had. “Jaemin! A joint!”

And Jaemin is besides Mark in half a second, lit cigarette ready in his hand.

“Open up, babe,” he tells him softly. Mark obeys with no questions, eyes closed happily into little moons.

Jaemin places the joint between Mark’s lips and mumbles, “be careful,” before he’s pulling away. “Please, take care of him,” he tells Donghyuck. He nods as an answer, and Jaemin winks before he’s leaving again, running to the kitchen where he’s been drinking with the others.

Mark opens his eyes once they are alone, they are droopy and dreamy and still shining as always when he stares at Donghyuck. He lets go of one of Donghyuck’s hands, he feels the loss in more places he can count.

“Closer,” Mark speaks around the cigarette, quietly, his hand wiggling in the air between them as he motions Donghyuck to come closer.

And he doesn’t really know how to get closer than this, when they are already pressed up together from thigh to shoulder, Mark’s hand wrapped around his, clammy and sweaty, Donghyuck's fingers going a little numb with how hard he is squeezing them.

So he leans in a little, until he can feel the smoke hitting his face, because that’s the only thing he can think of.

Mark smiles with the joint hanging from the seam of his mouth before he reaches up with his free hand to take it from between his lips. He turns it around, gets the lit end between his teeth, smiling almost devilishly as he leans closer one more time, chin tilting up towards Donghyuck as an offering.

And, honestly, who is Donghyuck to deny him anything?

Donghyuck wraps his lips around the other end of the cigarette, eyes open wide in expectation, looking straight into Mark’s half closed gaze. When Mark blows air into the joint, Donghyuck starts to suck in the smoke, and somehow it feels a million times more intense than their awkward kiss in the bus, even if their lips aren’t even touching.

He feels a little lightheaded, his entire body full of smoke like a balloon. He’s burning up from inside out, Mark’s eyes fixed on him like a party, setting up his brain into fireworks. The only thing that’s keeping him grounded is Mark’s warm hand, their fingers twisted together painfully.

It’s always about burning with Mark. Donghyuck keeps waiting to be consumed by it, waiting to feel ashes under his tongue. But he keeps blowing up, up, up. He doesn’t see an end to it, and he definitely doesn't want to find it.

When Mark pulls away, he isn’t smiling anymore. Donghyuck holds his breath as Mark stares at him with serious eyes. He brings his free hand up, his knuckles brushing over Donghyuck’s lips as he takes the joint out of his mouth. This time, when Mark tilts his chin up, he’s offering his lips, open mouthed and closed eyed.

As he leans in again, Donghyuck can feel his own heart thumping painfully against his temples, crawling up his throat, beating wildly under his tongue, he can almost taste it.

He gets as close as he can without letting their lips touch, opens up his mouth and blows the smoke right into Mark’s. They are so close, their noses brushing together gently, and it’s so incredibly hot between them, a kind of intimacy Donghyuck has never felt before. It slides over him like a forest fire, he never thought an explosion could taste this good.

Donghyuck blinks rapidly when Mark pulls away, a little dazed. Everything is so quiet around them, as if the world has stopped to gift them this moment, and now it doesn’t know how to start up again. Donghyuck feels stuck and, for the first time in his life, he actually enjoys the feeling.

But then, then Mark is _pouting_ at him. He lets go of Donghyuck’s hand to cross his arms around his chest angrily, the ash of the joint getting all over his gray hoodie.

“What kinda kiss was that?” He says, he sounds a little more sober than before, more awake, but his eyes are still glossed over, and Donghyuck knows better.

He smiles fondly, “ask me when you’re sober,” he says, patting Mark’s cheek teasingly.

Mark frowns at him, gets the joint back into his mouth and blows up the smoke right into Donghyuck’s face, dissolving in giggles afterwards.

(They end up sleeping over at Jaemin’s house. Donghyuck curls up next to Jisung and falls asleep with his head in Jeno’s lap.

In the morning, Mark doesn’t ask.)

\- - -

Donghyuck is acting like a dick. The worst part is that he’s fully aware of it, but he doesn’t know how to stop.

He’s been ghosting Mark for a few days now, since Jaemin’s party. He keeps rejecting his rides to practice with dumb, made up excuses. But he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to treat him after that night. He doesn’t know if Mark forgot about it, or if it was just a party trick for him, if he was only having a good time and it meant nothing.

And Donghyuck _had_ a good time. He would go back in time and do it all over again, exactly the same way. He doesn’t understand why he keeps making it a bigger deal than it actually is, because it’s not as if they did _anything_ , but he feels like something important has shifted between them, and he doesn’t know how to set it back in the right angle.

The thing is, Donghyuck has never felt like this before. He has never been interested in anyone before, not in a way that felt real. He keeps teasing and messing around because it is fun to make people blush, to rile them up, to feel wanted. But he’s never wanted anyone the way he wants other people to want him. He’s never wanted anyone in a way that mattered. Until now.

Whenever he sees Mark, he _yearns_ , and he doesn’t know how to act about it. So he does something that goes against everything he is: he hides.

(Mark keeps staring at him during practice, from his position on the other side of the field. He stares at him in the changing room too, in a way that forces Donghyuck to get changed inside of the shower stall, so no one can get to see the way his entire chest flushes red under the attention.

He also stares at him every time Donghyuck walks past his bike to get inside of Lucas’ car, legs straddling his bike, arms folded over the handle, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. Donghyuck’s hands itch with need, he wants to push the glasses up so they sit properly over Mark’s nose, he wants to tangle his fingers in that grey hoodie Mark keeps wearing, wants to lick at the moles on his neck.

But Mark’s eyes scream disappointment and Donghyuck has never known how to handle rejection, because he’s never had to do it before.

And he knows. He knows misunderstandings are one of the things Mark hates the most. But maybe he should’ve thought it better before he tried to kiss Donghyuck and play it off as something unimportant. Because Mark should know by now that nothing is unimportant to Donghyuck when it comes to him.)

\- - -

It’s raining heavily when Mark decides he has had enough.

Donghyuck is dripping wet as he steps out of the field. His damp hair is sticking to his forehead, drops of water running down his cheeks and arms. His clothes are heavy over his sensitive skin, they feel sandpaper raw against his thighs and forearms. His rugby boots make squeaky noises with each step he takes, he thinks he’s gotten mood even inside of his socks.

Mark stops him right before he can get into the sports pavilion and into the changing rooms. He wraps a hand around Donghyuck’s wet, sore arm and pulls at it hard. He takes him by surprise, so Donghyuck falls against him easily, his shoulder pressed up against Mark’s chest as he leans closer to scream-whisper into his ear, to make himself loud enough over the rain.

“Let me take you home!” He says it as if it’s nothing, as if it’s easy.

When Donghyuck turns around to stare at Mark, Mark is looking right back at him, squinting under the pouring water, face wrinkled up and hair all disheveled. Donghyuck nods, because he misses him so much it feels like a punch to his stomach.

And Mark smiles, all bright and shiny even under this storm. It’s disarming, the way it seems like can not physically get angry. At least, not at Donghyuck. It makes Donghyuck hang his head low in guilt as he walks towards the changing room, Mark close behind him, still grinning as if he’s just won the most important match of his life.

When he was a kid, Donghyuck’s mom used to tell him that the rain washed off all the bad feelings. He used to believe her and wished for rain every time he felt upset, so he could run outside and stand under it for a few minutes, even if he ended up catching a cold in the process.

He tells Mark so, now.

They’ve stopped the bike in the middle of a half empty square on their way to Donghyuck’s house. It has started to pour again, but he refuses to look for shelter and wait for the storm to pass.

Mark has gotten off the bike. He’s standing in front of it now, his elbows resting over the handle, his hands cradling his own face as he leans closer to Donghyuck, who’s still sitting on the bike.

It’s April already, a little past eight, so it’s getting dark. Mark looks good like this, soft against the orange color of the clouds, his hair all mussed up and wet, squinting through the droplets of rain that are splashed all over his glasses. He got a haircut recently and there’s this strand in the crown of his head that keeps standing up, Donghyuck wants to reach out, smooth it down with his fingertips, slide his pads over his scalp. But he keeps his hands balled into fists inside the pocket of his green sweater, that keeps going darker the more drenched they both get.

“Is the rain working?” Mark asks, tilting his chin between his hands. “Are you feeling better?”

Donghyuck bites down on his lower lip, eyes dropping to the floor, “I’m perfectly fine,” he says.

Mark pouts at him, just the way he did that day at Jaemin’s place.

“Don’t lie to me,” he mumbles, pushing himself away from the bike with his elbows.

He walks around the bike, comes to stand on the left side of it, right behind Donghyuck.

“Up,” he says, tapping both sides of Donghyuck’s hips with his the tips of his fingers.

Donghyuck frowns at him over his shoulder, but he obeys when Mark stares insistently at him, eyebrows raised high in his forehead.

Mark lifts one of his legs over the bike, settles himself in the seat, squeezed between Donghyuck’s body and their bags that are tied in the back. He places his hands on Donghyuck’s waist softly, as if he isn’t sure he’s allowed to.

“I’m all yours,” he says. Donghyuck can feel his chin dropping between his shoulder blades.

Donghyuck shivers at the words, and he’s so glad it’s raining so bad, so he can trick himself and blame it on the weather.

“Mark,” he turns around as much as he can, looks behind him with a frown. “I haven’t ridden a bike in years. Do you have a death wish or something?”

Mark giggles, “well, they say it’s something you never forget.” His forehead falls against Donghyuck’s shoulder with a muffled bump. He stays like that for a second and, when he looks back up, he’s as serious as Donghyuck as ever seen him. “I know you like to act as if I don’t know shit about you,” he says, his fingers tightening a little around Donghyuck’s hips. “But I know this is gonna be good for you. You take control now, take me wherever you want.”

Donghyuck is speechless, his mouth goes dry and there’s so much he’d like to say stuck in his throat, it’s a little hard to breathe. He places his hands on the handle of the bike, grips on it until his knuckles go white, and wonders how is it possible for Mark to know him even better than he knows himself, sometimes.

He decides to focus on how nice it feels to have someone who can understand you without words, instead of how scary it is to have someone read right through you.

When he gets control over the bike, over their path, it feels as if he’s gaining control over his own life again. He feels steadier than ever, even if he rides faster than he should, and the streets are so sleepy, they bumps against the walls twice, and they almost fall down thrice. But Donghyuck can’t stop smiling, and Mark’s arms around his waist are all the protection he needs.

( **mark** : im gnna catch a cold because of you >:(

 **mark** : worth it tho hahahaha)

\- - -

The end of the season is approaching scarily fast, so their coach organizes a training escape in the country. This means Donghyuck is forced to skip class again, but Renjun can’t tell him shit this time, because he’s doing it for the team.

The place is nothing like they were expecting, though.

“What the hell is this shithole?” Johnny asks as they get inside the old, creaky house, all loaded with their backpacks and sleeping bags.

The house looks like it’s about to fall down, the wooden floor making ugly squeaky noises when they step over it. They take a small tour around the first floor: only one bathroom, the kitchen doesn’t have a microwave, there’s no couch and no television, and the entire floor is full of these religious statues and paintings that Donghyuck knows will give him the creeps once they turn off the lights.

“You will sleep upstairs,” says coach.

He heads the way up the stairs, and Donghyuck winces at the rusty noise they make.

“Are you sure the floor won’t crash down with all of us up there?” Taeyong jokes, but the discomfort is evident in his voice.

“It is not that bad, it’s just for a few days, you can survive,” coach says, stopping with his hands on his hips once he gets to the last stair.

The picture is even worse than downstairs: there are three rooms and a creepy hallway that goes nowhere, everything covered in a thin layer of dust, as if it hasn’t been cleaned up in weeks. The three rooms are connected through the doors and there are no beds, no mattresses, but there is a bedstead in the smaller room, the one in between.

“You should split up between the other two rooms,” coach says when they peek into the smaller room. “This one used to belong to the priest who used to live here. You know, this house was used for catechesis classes a while ago.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jisung’s voice sounds kinda unstable, and he’s holding onto Jaemin’s arm, half hiding behind him even though he’s much taller.

Donghyuck hates that he can’t even make fun of him, because he himself is feeling quite uneasy right now.

Coach laughs and rubs at his neck. “The priest died here, actually. There’s a legend that says he shows up in this bedstead at three in the morning every single night.”

“Alright, shut up now,” Renjun says, his index finger up in the air to point at their coach accusingly. “You are making all of this up to scare the shit out of us.”

“Well, believe what you wan. There’s a guy that sleeps outside, by the way. To take care of the place.” He shrugs as he makes his way between all the members to get out of the room. “I’m staying at my mother-in-law’s, she lives quite close. I’ll be here at 8 sharp tomorrow morning to pick you up for training. If you are late, you’ll spend the afternoon running.”

Coach waves his hand one last time and heads downstairs. “There’s food in the kitchen!” He screams as a goodbye, and then the front door is banging closer.

“I’m not staying here,” Jisung says, muffled against Jaemin’s shoulder. “I’m running home if I have to.”

“Don’t be such a scaredy cat,” Taeyong replies from behind him. Jisung practically jumps out of his skin when their captain reaches out to pat his head fondly. “I’m sure he was messing with us. Let’s put our stuff down and make some dinner.”

\- - -

The first night is a literal nightmare.

Donghyuck doesn’t know whose idea it was (Johnny’s probably, the bastard) but they end up inviting the house guardian or whatever he is to eat with them inside. Even though all they have to offer is burnt sausages and half cooked rice because, apparently, the kitchen is so bad and they have so little food, Doyoung couldn’t make anything half decent.

They sit on the dusty floor around him, plastic plates on their laps as they listen to his stories under the flickering light while the sky keeps getting darker and darker outside.

“You know about the priest, right?” He says when they finish eating. “It’s not that he died here, someone killed him. They say he roams the house at three in the morning searching for revenge.”

Jisung makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, his plate falling to the floor as he brings his knees to his chest to hug himself.

“How much worse can this get?” He complains, muffled against the fabric of his sweatpants. Donghyuck, sitting next to him, reaches out to pat his back comfortingly, but Jisung almost jumps out of his own skin at the contact. “Don’t fucking laugh! You’re scared of this stuff too!”

Donghyuck snickers anyway, even if his skin is covered in goosebumps. “Shut up and don’t fucking swear,” he reaches out again to pat the back of Jisung’s head, but Jisung pushes him away and scowls at him.

“Don’t come crawling into my sleeping bag asking for cuddles tonight.”

“You wish, brat.”

Once the house guardian leaves, they end up splitting up into two groups in the different bedrooms. Even if they make fun of Jisung for how scared he looks, no one is brave to take the priest’s old room.

They huddle as close together as they can in their sleeping bags. Even if it’s already spring and all the windows are shut, the wooden floor is cold and uncomfortable, hard under the thin material of the sleeping bag, and the dusty surface makes Donghyuck’s nose itch.

No matter how tightly he closes his eyes, he can’t bring himself to fall asleep. He knows he isn’t the only one who’s still wide awake, he can hear the others typing away in their phones, and Donghyuck himself keeps checking his every two minutes. He’s sure everyone in this room is sharing the same thought: if they can make it awake until three and nothing happens, they’ll be able to fall asleep peacefully.

When the clock on his screen hits three sharp, Donghyuck holds his breath. Everything goes incredibly still in the room, the sickly light of all their phones dies out, he can physically feel Jeno going tense behind him.

For a few seconds, nothing happens. But then, the door that connects their room to the priest’s starts to creak.

Jisung makes an ugly sound somewhere in the room, something that sounds awfully similar to a muffled cry. Donghyuck reaches out to Renjun, who is sleeping right next to him. He searches for his hand blindly, curls his fingers around what he assumes is Renjun’s elbow when he can’t find it.

There’s a loud bump, something falling to the floor. Then, the door closes with a hard bam and Chenle squeals.

Everything goes still again, but there’s this steady noise in the background, like the tick-tack of a clock. If you pay close attention, you can hear muffled breathing.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Mark’s voice raises in between the darkness.

Donghyuck hadn’t even realized he had screwed his eyes shut, but he opens them up now to search for Mark’s figure. He sees him getting out of his sleeping bag, the lantern of his phone lit up as he looks around the room.

He walks closer to the door, crouches down to pick something up from the floor, and then he’s pulling the door open with a sharp tug of his hand.

“You are sooooo funny!” He says, mockingly, as three people stumble through the door, tripping over one another and falling down between hysterical laughter.

Someone turns on the light, Donghyuck has to squint under the sudden brightness to take in what’s going on around the room.

Mark is still standing up close to the door, his hip jutting out, one of his hands resting on his waist while he holds what looks like an alarm clock with the other. Johnny, Doyoung and Yuta are all on the floor, tangled up together, still laughing so hard Donghyuck swears there are tears in Doyoung’s eyes.

“You’re the biggest assholes alive,” Jaemin says. Donghyuck almost laughs at the irony of Jaemin calling someone else an asshole. “You almost gave the poor baby a heart attack.”

“Not a baby,” Jisung mumbles against Jaemin’s neck, where he is currently hiding.

“Okay, get out of here,” Mark crouches down again, only to wrap his hand around Yuta’s arm and pull him up. “Let us sleep or I’ll lock you up with the priest.”

That makes Johnny crack up again. “Markie, stop trying to look tough, your fucking hands are shaking.”

Doyoung and Yuta start laughing with him again, too. Renjun ends up getting up to help Mark to kick them out of the room. He rests his back against the door once it’s closed again, sighing heavily.

“We have to be up in like three hours,” Mark says, looking down at the alarm clock that’s still in his hand.

“Turn that thing off if you don’t want me to kick you out of the room with them,” Renjun threatens him. “I don’t trust you, you could’ve been an accomplice.” He pushes himself off the door and yawns on his way to his sleeping bag, placed right between Donghyuck and Lucas.

Mark opens the door one more time to throw the alarm clock out of the room, and then turns off the lights.

“We should get revenge tomorrow night,” mumbles Chenle, but Jisung hushes him.

“Don’t say that word. It gives me the creeps.”

“Everything gives you the creeps,” Donghyuck teases as he leans down again, resting his head against the bundled up sweater he’s using as an improvised pillow.

“Shut up, Hyuck. You’re as scared as me,” Jisung shoots back.

Donghyuck is about to reply when he feels something grab his leg. He sits up abruptly, retreating his leg with a jerk, a scream dies in his throat before it can come to life, muffled by a cold hand over his mouth.

“It’s just me,” Mark whispers, snickering through his nose. He must be kneeling over Donghyuck’s sleeping bag, because he’s so close his breath hits him right in the face.

Donghyuck slaps his hand away. “Why the hell did you think this was a good idea after what just happened?”

Mark laughs again, out loud this time.

“Shut your mouths, loverboys,” Lucas mumbles. He has the guts to say that while he cuddles Renjun right next to them. Donghyuck is so glad it’s pitch black in the room, because blood runs to his face and neck like a rush.

“Make room for me,” Mark whispers. Donghyuck can already feel his hands fumbling with the zipper of his sleeping bag.

He doesn't really know how to react. He doesn’t think his sleeping bag is big enough to fit the two of them, at least not without being completely pressed up against each other. Donghyuck’s heart stutters in his chest at the sole thought of it, something scorching hot shooting up his sternum.

“Who invited you to my bag?” He tries to joke, but it comes out breathless.

“I brought a pillow. I know you won’t say no to a pillow,” Mark says, already slipping his legs inside. “Also, I thought you’d be too scared to sleep alone.”

“Get the fuck out,” Donghyuck scoffs. He leans closer, his previous nerves getting buried under his fake deep irritation as he pushes at Mark’s shoulders, trying to kick him out of the bag and failing miserably.

They start to wrestle, Mark’s pillow falls somewhere behind him when he lets go of it to grab Donghyuck’s wrists between his fingers instead. Donghyuck can’t see anything, he keeps pushing at what he assumes is Mark’s shoulders, kicking at his legs inside of the narrow sleeping bag. But Mark has a better position and more strength, so he ends up trapping both of Donghyuck’s hands against Donghyuck’s own chest, half of his body resting on top of Donghyuck to keep him there.

Someone hushes them from somewhere in the room, and that only makes them laugh even harder. Donghyuck can feel the way Mark giggle everywhere, his chest trembling right against Donghyuck’s shoulder, his warm breath hitting Donghyuck’s neck in soft puffs.

When he stops laughing, Mark lets his forehead drop on Donghyuck’s collarbone with a tired sigh, his fingers still wrapped tightly around his wrists, hands clammy but cold. Donghyuck is suddenly aware of how close they are.

They are both wearing shorts, one of Mark’s legs is currently between Donghyuck’s, the fabric of their pants has riled up after all their wrestling, the soft hair on Mark’s thigh brushing against Donghyuck’s smooth skin. Mark is taking big, deep breathes, Donghyuck can feel his chest swelling against him, shuddering when he lets the air out.

“Hey,” he mumbles, his mouth almost brushing over Mark’s hair. “Are you shaking, you coward?”

Mark laughs weakly, his forehead rubbing Donghyuck’s collarbone as he shakes his head. He softens his grip on Donghyuck’s wrists, walks his fingers up his palm until he can thread their hands together.

“M’tired,” his lips drag along Donghyuck’s collarbone as he speaks, over his shirt, but they still start a fire on his skin. “And I. I wanna kiss you.”

Donghyuck is stuck again. Everything around him stills as the words play in his mind again and again like a broken record. Mark, all soft and warm, wants to kiss him. Mark, sober and real, wants to kiss him. Mark, pressed up against him, legs and fingers intertwined, wants to kiss him.

“I really wanna fucking kiss you,” Mark confesses again, so quietly so no one else can hear, like something sacred between them.

He finally lifts his head from Donghyuck’s collarbone. He pushes himself up Donghyuck’s body, the skin of their legs dragging together as he settles down again, forehead against forehead this time. And he stays there, waiting patiently.

Everything feels so hot, the air is charged like a fever dream. Donghyuck wishes it wasn’t so dark, so he could stare at Mark’s eyes and check they are twinkling, check this isn’t make believe.

“What’s making you so brave?” He says instead, his voice thick with something he can’t name. “Is it the dark or are you so sleepy you’re just saying whatever?”

“I know what I’m saying,” Mark replies quickly, shaking his head against Donghyuck’s, and their noses bump together. “I knew what I was doing back then, too. At Jaemin’s I mean. I knew. But I. I got scared you didn’t want me, too. But like, I can’t. I mean. I can’t stop. I can’t shut up. Been wantin’ to kiss you since you told me you are no quitter.”

He’s rambling, the way he always does when he’s embarrassed. He’s also sweating, hands all clammy between Donghyuck’s. He’s probably blushing, pretty pink all over his cheeks and neck and ears. Just the mental image of it makes Donghyuck want to kiss him all over.

“Haechan, ‘m not a quitter, either,” Mark whines when he doesn’t get an answer. He presses down on Donghyuck’s chest to lift himself up a little, probably to try to look Donghyuck in the eyes, but it’s so fucking dark. “Channie. Please, Hyuck. You want me?”

And, fuck. What’s Donghyuck supposed to say to that?

“Come back here,” he sighs, his hand reaching out around Mark to grab at his neck blindly.

Mark is so fucking hot under Donghyuck’s fingers, the skin of his neck is burning up, his thigh simmering between Donghyuck’s. And his lips are so damn warm when he finally falls down against Donghyuck. He practically melts on top of him, sighing through his nose when their lips press together in the softest, gentlest kiss.

It is something small and caste, even if their bodies are touching in every way possible, even if Donghyuck sparks in every point his skin comes into contact with Mark’s. It’s awkward in the dark, their noses keep bumping, Mark’s lips are so chapped they feel rough over Donghyuck’s smooth mouth, their lips brushing together closed mouthed. And still, it is so incredibly tender it makes Donghyuck shake for all the right reasons.

The kiss feels just like Mark: warm and clumsy. Nervous, but decisive. Rough, but so amazingly sweet at the same time. So damn bright and light, even in the darkness.

Mark whines when Donghyuck tugs at the hair where his scalp meets his neck to pull him away. It almost makes him curl up to chase him, to drown the sound inside of Mark’s mouth with his tongue. But they’ll have time for that tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. If Mark still wants him.

“It’s too late and too dark for this,” Donghyuck says, apologetic, his hand smoothing the hair in the back of Mark’s head. “And there’s too many people here.”

“You don’t want me,” Mark _pouts_. Donghyuck can’t see it, but he can _hear_ it.

“I know you aren’t that clever, Mark. But you aren’t this dumb, either,” he jokes. Mark kneels him right in the thigh, making him grunt.

“No more kisses for you,” he mumbles as he settles himself on top of Donghyuck’s chest. He tucks his head right under his chin and stays there, as if he isn’t planning on moving any time soon. Donghyuck wishes he could stay there forever.

“We’ll see if you are brave enough to ask for more,” Donghyuck teases him, arms coming around Mark’s shoulders to tug him in closer.

Mark doesn’t reply, but he leaves a kiss right against Donghyuck’s Adam’s apple. It feels like a promise.

\- - -

Again, they don’t talk about it.

It’s not as if they have time to talk about it. They wake up at six in the morning, using the shower in record time since they have one bathroom for 21 people, have burnt toast as breakfast, and they are out the door before 8 am.

Donghyuck hates having to wake up early, but he’s glad to be out of that creepy old house, and the place they are staying at is actually quite nice.

As they run towards the field they will use for training, they get to sightsee a little bit. Donghyuck finds out that the house isn’t in the middle of nowhere, there’s more than trees and high grass around it. The beach is close by, even though coach won’t let them go down to the sand, it is nice to jog along the road that’s surrounding it, the cold, salty air against his face is exactly what Donghyuck needs to shake the remaining remnants of sleep off of himself.

There are also some pubs and bars around, still closed at this hour, but Johnny swears he’ll take everyone out before they leave.

“Do whatever you want, but no alcohol for the underage,” Coach says from where he is leading their warm up session. “And you’ll have to be up by six no matter how bad your hangover is.”

They train for what feels like years, run all the way back, queue to get into the bathroom again and eat some bland pasta before they are leaving one more time to practice some new strategies. When they get home, they are all so worn out no one brings up clubbing again.

At night, Donghyuck slips into some loose sweatpants and a cozy hoodie before he claims the kitchen to himself, Jisung trailing behind him to help even though he can’t fry an egg to save his life.

There’s not much to work with, so Donghyuck ends up frying some bacon and sausages and throwing them into slices of bread that Jisung cuts for him.

Mark sneaks into the kitchen at some point, he pushes himself up into the counter, his legs swinging into the air as he sits there staring at Donghyuck. He’s wearing shorts, his fingers fidgeting with the seams every time Donghyuck looks his way. The sleeves of the hoodie he’s wearing covering his hands, he’s got his wet hair hidden by a snapback that he’s put on backwards, and his glasses aren’t sliding down the bridge of his nose for once. He looks so warm and welcoming, Donghyuck kinda wants to hide himself between his arms, but he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to.

Donghyuck is so tense. There’s this feeling between them, it stretches between them so heavily it is almost tangible, electrifying over his skin. It’s the knowledge that they should talk about it, discuss what they are, if they are anything at all. But it doesn’t feel like something is crushing his chest, this time. He doesn’t feel caged and out of control, spiralling into nothing all alone.

It is a quiet thing, but warm, simmering between them. It is lasting sneaky glances at each other, cheeks burning red when they get caught. It’s subtle touches, like Mark tapping Donghyuck’s hip when he walks past him in the kitchen, or Donghyuck bumping his knee against one of Mark’s swinging feet on purpose. It’s permanent smiles on both of their faces, and feeling so overwhelmed they can’t even keep up with their usual banter. It’s Jisung looking between them all confused when silence falls over the room, charged with something he can’t understand, because only Donghyuck and Mark can get it.

“You gonna sneak into my sleeping bag again?” Donghyuck asks once Jisung has had enough. He runs out of the room with both hands occupied with plates full of food, he doesn’t even spare them one last glance.

“You’d love that, huh?” Mark wiggles his eyebrows, parting his legs over the counter a little, as if he’s inviting Donghyuck to come closer. And when has Donghyuck been able to deny him anything?

He steps between Mark’s legs, not close enough to touch, his hand up in the air between them, holding a bacon sandwich in front of Mark’s mouth.

“What, are you gonna be an asshole when I just made dinner for you?” He raises his eyebrows, retreating his hand when Mark leans closer to try to take a bite.

“Sorry,” Mark says with a pout. His eyebrows lower over his eyes, it makes him look like a kicked puppy, and one of his hands comes to rest on Donghyuck’s waist, as if he’s trying to keep him there forever. Donghyuck wonders if he’s aware of the effect he has on people, but the embarrassed blush that’s going up Mark’s neck tells him no, and that makes him even more endearing. He’s so fucking gone.

He rolls his eyes playfully, because even if he’s melting on the inside, Mark doesn’t have to know that.

Donghyuck brings his hand closer to Mark again, offering him a bite of the sandwich. Mark’s hand flies to Donghyuck’s wrist, he curls his fingers there the way he did the previous night, cold and gentle, but firm. Donghyuck stares at him when he bites down in the bread, his eyes squinting and his nose scrunching up as he makes an exaggerated sound of pleasure.

“Dude,” he talks excitedly around the food, his fingers dropping from Donghyuck’s wrist. “This is so fucking good.”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes at him again, slapping his chest with no actual heat behind it. “And it’s just a shitty sandwich, Mark.”

But Mark shakes his head at him rapidly, swallowing fast before he says: “It’s never just a sandwich for someone who can’t cook for shit, like me.”

He sounds and looks so genuine, his eyes open wide and shining the way they always do when he’s excited, his eyebrows raised high in his forehead as if he’s honestly impressed, fingers digging into the flesh of Donghyuck’s hip. It leaves Donghyuck breathless, the way Mark always manages to make him feel like the most valuable person in the whole fucking world. No one has ever made him feel that way before, and he’s eager and desperate to give everything right back, but he doesn’t even know where to start.

He’s about to lean in, press his lips against Mark’s again, even if there are breadcrumbs in the seam of his mouth and he probably tastes like burnt oil. But then Taeyong is bursting into the room in search of more sandwiches.

They spring apart like same pole magnets, as if they’ve been caught doing something they aren’t allowed to. Taeyong looks at them suspiciously and, even though he doesn’t say anything, he drags Donghyuck out of the kitchen with him to help him to bring more food to the others.

(They don’t get another alone moment for the rest of the day. Donghyuck goes to sleep way earlier than Mark, who stays up playing guitar for the others (one more thing to add to his list of little facts about Mark Lee).

Donghyuck is so exhausted he falls asleep in record time, cold and uncomfortable against the wooden floor.

He wakes up hours later, warm and cozy with Mark’s arms wrapped around his waist, his chest pressed up against Donghyuck’s back, breathing in tandem.)

\- - -

The next day goes almost exactly the same way, but when the night comes and Donghyuck locks himself in the kitchen, with Chenle this time, Mark doesn’t burst in. Instead, he decides to tag along with Johnny and a bunch of other members to go out for a few drinks.

But a few drinks turns into hours and, suddenly, it is already two in the morning and no one has made it back home yet.

Donghyuck will not say it out loud, but he is a little worried. Mark can’t hold his alcohol at all, he’s experienced it first hand, he will not be able to get out of bed at six in the morning if he gets fucked up.

“He’s old enough to know what he’s doing,” Jaemin says, bumping his shoulder against Donghyuck’s to try to lighten up the mood. Donghyuck scowls at the floor as an answer.

They are the only ones awake out of everyone who decided to stay in. Even if he is good at hiding it, Donghyuck can see right through Jaemin, he knows he’s just as worried as him, otherwise he would have passed out hours ago.

Mark proves they had the right to get worried only a few moments later. Yuta kicks the door open, struggling to drag Mark inside, draped half over his shoulders and half over Johnny’s.

They look up at Jaemin and Donghyuck with wide, alarmed eyes when they get up and rush to their side. Jaemin’s hands fly to Mark’s face, he traces his fingers down his cheeks as he tilts his head up. He pushes on the skin under Mark’s eyes, trying to get him to look at him, but Mark’s gaze is unfocused, a loose smile hanging from his lips.

“Johnny, what the fuck?” Donghyuck says, suddenly hot with anger at everyone, including at. Because he’s only standing there, uselessly staring. “You know he can barely stand two beers, why would you let him drink this much? He’s gone!”

“Don’t get on my nerves, Haechan,” Johnny mumbles as he shoulders his way past Jaemin, dragging Mark along with him to flop him down onto one of the blankets they’ve stretched over the floor earlier today. “I’m not his fucking babysitter, he should’ve known better.”

Donghyuck hates the fact that he knows Johnny is right. Because he doesn’t want to get mad at Mark, the mix of worry and anger tastes bitter under his tongue, acrid in his belly.

“Sleepy,” Mark mumbles, throwing himself to the floor, on his back. His head makes a nasty noise when it hits the wood, but he breaks into giggles, as if he’s numb to the pain.

“Oh, god,” Jaemin winces, crouching next to him. “C’mon Mark, you know how this goes, on your side.”

Donghyuck is still staring, standing frozen next to them. He’s handled a drunk Renjun countless of times, he knows what to do in these situations. But he’s stricken by a wave of concern and anger so strong it makes him feel kinda dizzy. And he doesn’t even know how much he’s allowed to care.

Jaemin tugs at Mark’s arm, pulling at it to forcefully push him to lie on his side. He’s holding Mark’s head with his other hand as he looks around the room with urgent eyes.

“Someone get me a pillow or something, he’s gonna hurt his neck,” and Mark giggles again, turns his face in Jaemin’s grip trying to bite at his fingers. “Stay still, babe. Don’t be an dickhead.”

Donghyuck looks around confused, trying to think of something mushy to get under Mark’s head. But Yuta is quicker than him, he pulls the thick sweater he’s wearing over his head and throws it at Jaemin, who shoots him a thankful smile.

“I’m gonna head to bed,” Johnny says, and only then Donghyuck realizes his words are a little slurred. “You’re better at this than I am,” he tells Jaemin.

He grabs Yuta by the wrist and tugs him with him in the direction of the door. But he stops behind Donghyuck before he gets out of the room. He taps his fingers to his hip to get his attention and mumbles in his ear:

“Get him some food and water, get moving,” and he slaps Donghyuck’s ass before he leaves, laughing out loud, probably because his cheeks are burning up.

He does as he was told, runs to the kitchen to get a glass of water and some cookies, and kneels beside Jaemin when he gets back.

“Thanks,” Jaemin takes a cookie and shoves it into Mark’s face. “Okay Mark, you need to eat something, can’t go to bed with an empty stomach.”

He taps the sweet against his bottom lip to get him to open his mouth. But Mark completely ignores him. He’s smiling wide, his teeth showing, cheeks flushed red and a feverish glint to his natural bright eyes. He runs a clumsy hand through his already messy and sweaty hair as he looks up at Donghyuck through his dropped eyelids.

“Hyuck, kiss me,” he says all of a sudden. He disentangles his fingers from his hair only to make grabby hands at Donghyuck.

Jaemin _snickers_ , he tries to hide it with a cough, but it’s painfully obvious that he’s laughing at the situation. Donghyuck feels like he’s about to combust. His face and neck have never been this hot, embarrassment painting his skin red.

He swallows thickly as he moves the glass of water towards Mark, trying to fit it into his grabby hand.

“Shut up,” he says, even though he doesn’t even know who he’s referring to: drunk, giggly Mark or fucking Jaemin, who’s directing a shiteating grin at him.

“Your lips look like a heart,” Mark says, squinting up at him. “Did y’know? Pretty. Wanna bite them.”

Jaemin blatantly laughs at them now, with his head thrown back and everything. Donghyuck groans at him and elbows him in the ribs.

“Mark, you’re a fucking mess. Just drink your damn water,” he says, pushing the glass into Mark’s forcefully.

And Mark. Mark pouts at him, of course he does. Donghyuck hates him so much right now, he wants to kiss him senseless.

They get him to drink and to eat the cookies eventually. He munches on them slowly, still lying on his side, getting crumbs all over Yuta’s hoodie. Mark keeps blabbering, running his mouth about anything that comes to his mind, as if the little filter he has when he’s sober completely dissolves into alcohol.

He gets sleepy eventually, with Jaemin’s hands running through his hair, a dopey smile on his lips.

“Haechannie,” he says before he falls asleep, with his eyes already closed. “You got moles like constellations. You should date me.”

Jaemin laughs again, the fucking asshole. He stares at Donghyuck with his eyebrows high on his forehead, as if he’s waiting for an actual answer. Donghyuck groans again and shoves him with his shoulder.

“You need to stop asking important shit when you are drunk,” he tells Mark.

Donghyuck reaches out, touches his fingers to the back of Mark’s hand gently, almost asking for permission. Because he doesn’t really know if he’s allowed _this,_ doesn't really know how much Jaemin knows. But Mark falls asleep without giving him an answer.

(“He likes you a whole lot, you know?” Jaemin says a few minutes later, that shiteating, know-it-all smile on his face. They’ve dragged their sleeping bags to the living room to sleep with Mark, not wanting to leave him down there alone.

But the thing is, Donghyuck doesn’t know anything.)

\- - -

The next day, they sneak out to the beach after dinner, only the two of them.

It is Mark’s idea. Donghyuck tries to talk him out of it, because Mark is still hungover and looking like shit, with bags under his eyes and tripping over his own feet due to exhaustion. But he doesn’t want to back out, he grabs Donghyuck by the wrist and pulls him out the door, no room for refusals. It seems he hasn’t caught up on the fact that Donghyuck isn’t able to deny him anything.

They get to the beach right at dusk. It’s a beautiful day, a few clouds scattered over the almost clear sky, orange against the dying sun. It’s not a cold day, but not warm enough to go out without a jacket. The wind rises goosebumps over the naked skin of Donghyuck’s arms, it also ruffles their hair, that single strand of Mark’s hair standing up in the crown of his head. This time, when Donghyuck’s fingers itch with the need to reach out and tame Mark’s hair, he doesn’t stop himself.

“Let’s get into the water,” Mark says, holding onto Donghyuck’s arm when he finally drops his hand from his hair.

“You’re insane,” Donghyuck shakes him off, takes a step backwards to get some room to breathe. “I’m already cold, I’m not getting in there and freezing to death, thanks.”

Mark laughs at that, because apparently that is the natural reaction Donghyuck causes in him. It makes him go all warm inside, even with the cold breeze against his skin, the goosebumps over his body taking a new kind of meaning.

“Well, I’m going in alone, then.”

Donghyuck stands there staring dumbly as Mark starts to strip himself. He throws his shirt to the sand at the same time he steps on the back of his sneakers to take them off. Then, he slides his jeans down his legs, revealing more milky skin, covered in fresh brushes due to the amount of times he fell during practice today, still clumsy and hangover.

“Mark, it’s fucking freezing, you’re gonna catch a cold,” Donghyuck brings his eyes up to Mark’s face, tries to keep them there when he steps closer to grab at his arm. “You’re still drunk.”

“What I am is hungover,” Mark’s the one shaking Donghyuck off this time, his eyes squinted up with amusement. “I’m sure swimming will make me feel better. You stay here and wait for me.”

“You dragged me out here for this?” Donghyuck screams at Mark’s back when he turns around to walk towards the water.

“Not my fault you don’t wanna join me ‘cause you’re a coward!”

He knows Mark is trying to trick him, rile him up so he ends up trailing after him. But Donghyuck refuses to be that weak, as if he’s trying to prove a point to himself. So he flips Mark off even if Mark isn’t even looking at him, and flops down in the sand.

The minutes go by like that: Donghyuck sits there to wait for Mark, he has to kick his shoes off so he can look at the way his feet sink into the soft sand, so he can stop himself from staring at Mark.

But that little trick doesn’t work once Mark comes out of the water. He approaches Donghyuck smiling wide, looking all boyish and bright under the moonlight. It isn’t the first time Donghyuck has seen him almost naked, but it feels so different, his toned body twinkling with a million tiny droplets, water falling from his disheveled hair, sliding down his chest, his underwear all wet and sticking to his body in all the right places.

Donghyuck feels like he’s about to suffocate when Mark sits down next to him. Even though it is already dark, the blush over his skin is so prominent Donghyuck can’t miss it: it starts on the bridge of his nose, spreading through his cheeks and to the tip of his ears. Donghyuck can’t take his eyes away from him, he’s stuck in the little beads of water that fall from Mark’s eyes every time he blinks. He wants to reach out and collect them with his fingertips, but he keeps his hands trapped between his own thighs, sweaty and yearning.

He knows he’s staring, but he can’t bring himself to stop, can’t make his brain work out anything coherent to say. His mind keeps going back to the previous night, when a drunk Mark told Donghyuck he’s got constellations over his skin. But, right now, Mark is twinkling like a million shooting stars, and Donghyuck would wish for him a million times over.

“Hey,” he doesn’t know when they got so close, but Mark’s breath brushes over Donghyuck’s cheeks when he speaks, breaking him out of the spell. “Was I too embarrassing last night?”

Donghyuck blinks rapidly at him, eyes focusing on Mark’s, his gaze so intense it seems like he’s looking right through Donghyuck.

“You’re always embarrassing,” he replies, joking as a natural reflex, but his voice comes out all rough around the edges.

There’s this alarm going off somewhere in Donghyuck’s brain that tells him he should be embarrassed at how worked up he is just by the simple sight of Mark, wet in front of him. But Mark is laughing with his entire body, his eyes all wrinkled up, his shoulders and legs shaking with it, and Donghyuck can’t feel anything but valued.

“I asked you to kiss me, didn’t I?” Mark asks, a little out of breath when he stops laughing.

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow, “I thought you couldn’t remember anything?”

“I don’t. It’s just that, I mean.” Mark pauses, stumbles over his words with nerves. He’s looking down at the sand, his teeth worrying his bottom lip the way he always does when he needs to talk about something mildly important. “I think about it all the time. Kissing you, that is. So I figured drunk me would think about it twice as much, probably.”

Donghyuck feels all bottled up, he’s filled to the brim with things he has never felt before, and it’s so much and so intense he’s spilling. He takes a shuddering breath, leans a little bit closer, until his clothed shoulder is pressed against Mark’s naked one, until his nose almost brushes over Mark’s cheek. And he says, there, small in the warmth between them:

“You should try less thinking and more doing.”

Mark’s hands feel weird when they cup his sensitive cheeks. One of them is still wet from the ocean, the other one is rough because of the sand that has stuck to it, but they are still oh so warm, holding Donghyuck so delicately, like he’s something precious.

That’s the way Mark makes him feel all the time, like he’s worth everything. And that’s the way he kisses him, too. It’s the first time they are kissing properly, and Mark takes his time with it, as if he’s determined to show Donghyuck he deserves to be appreciated in every way.

It starts slow, just the brush of Mark’s chapped lips against his, Mark’s fingers caressing his cheeks and temples gently. But then he’s licking at Donghyuck’s upper lip, tracing the form of it, lapping at the seam of his mouth to coax it open slowly. It’s so tender, the way he sneaks his way into Donghyuck’s mouth, tasting of salt and summer, even in the middle of spring. So bright, Donghyuck’s chest burns with it.

One of Mark’s hands goes from Donghyuck’s cheek to his hair, he tangles his fingers there, his nails scratching over his scalp as he runs his tongue along the back of his teeth. Donghyuck can’t help it, he gasps into the warmth of Mark’s mouth, his body jerking closer with need.

He needs, he _wants_ so much and fiercely. He wants Mark in every way possible, all of him, thoroughly. He wants him in a way he’s never wanted anyone or anything before, so he doesn’t know how to take. He can only whine when their mouths part, his fingertips digging into the skin of Mark’s thigh, even though he doesn’t even know when his hands got there in the first place.

It’s too much all of a sudden, Mark’s still wet body pressed up against him, getting Donghyuck’s shirt damp. It’s almost as if there is nothing between them, he can feel every curve and edge of Mark’s torso, the way his chest moves up and down so fast, his breath coming out ragged against Donghyuck’s tingling lips.

“Hyuck,” Mark practically moans against him, his body shaking a little under Donghyuck’s hands when he curls an arm around his body to run his fingers up his naked spine.

He presses his palm flat between Mark’s shoulder blades, so he can pull him down with him when lowers his body to lie over the sand. Mark goes down with him so easily and willingly, his lips pressing fluttery kisses over Donghyuck’s cheek, along the line of his jaw, behind his ear.

“I want,” Mark says, but he doesn’t seem to be able to complete the thought. His lips get distracted by Donghyuck’s, he’s pressing their lips together again, all the patience he seemed to have earlier replaced by a hot urgency.

Mark keeps nibbling on Donghyuck’s upper lip, then he smoothes it with his tongue, tracing its shape so gently but with such a passion, Donghyuck is going a little bit lightheaded. They are pressed so close together, Mark’s thigh slides between his legs, but it’s completely different to the feeling that flooded him when they shared a sleeping bag for the first time, even if it’s just as intimate.

Everything feels a million times more intense than usual. Donghyuck’s skin is so sensitive, it keeps burning up everywhere it is touching Mark’s, even with his clothes still between them. He’s feeling so much, he keeps wondering if it’s because it’s the first time he’s been this close to someone else, in such a way. Or if it’s always supposed to be this overwhelming. Or maybe it’s only because it’s Mark.

But all his thoughts and self doubts melt under the warmth of Mark’s mouth, under the urgency of Mark’s fingers, running along Donghyuck’s chest until he balls his fist desperately in the bottom of Donghyuck’s shirt, his knuckles brushing over his lower stomach. Donghyuck can’t help it, he arches under the touch.

“Can I?” Mark says against his lips.

Donghyuck isn’t even sure what he’s being asked, but he nods anyway, because there’s no way he’ll ever deny this boy anything.

Mark stops kissing him, then. He pushes all his weight onto his elbow, holds himself up above Donghyuck, looking down at him with his round eyes twinkling differently, with something dark, something that looks like lust. Mark lifts Donghyuck’s shirt, presses his palm against his belly, his fingers dipping under Donghyuck’s sweatpants. But he stays there.

“I,” he starts. But he has to pause to swallow thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat in a way that makes Donghyuck’s mouth run dry. He’s curling his fingers around Mark’s neck before he can help it, bringing him down to bite at his neck. “Wait,” Mark mumbles, and his throat vibrates against Donghyuck’s lips with laughter. It’s such an addictive sensation, Mark against him, spilling laughter and happiness everywhere.

But then he’s gone, he’s pushing at the sand again, ripping his skin away from Donghyuck’s lips to look down at him.

“You can never look me in the eye, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” Donghyuck growls frustrated, sick of this habit Mark has developed, of giving him a taste just to take it away a second later.

“Shut up, this is important,” Mark complains, but he’s smiling, giggling over Donghyuck. He digs his fingertips into Donghyuck’s skin then, his nails sinking into the sensitive flesh of his lower stomach as a reminder. “I wanna make you feel good. Hyuck, can I?”

 _You always do_ , Donghyuck thinks. But Mark is staring at him with his pupils blown wide, his eyes open with desperation as he licks at his own red, chapped lips. Donghyuck nods eagerly, a whine stuck in his throat just at the thought of what Mark is about to do to him. What Mark _wants_ to do to him.

Mark slips his hand down Donghyuck’s pants, past the waistband of his underwear with no more questions. And Donghyuck buckles into the touch, his hips jerking up shakily, a cry getting stuck behind his gritted teeth.

He strokes him slowly, touches him so gently, Donghyuck thinks he’s about to lose his mind. He becomes a whining mess in a few seconds, one of his hands gripping at Mark’s arm, his nails digging into his flesh as his other hand closes over the sand, trying to grab at something that will stop him from spiralling out of control.

Mark shows no mercy, his pace is incredibly slow and tender, his eyes never moving away from Donghyuck’s face, looking at him with his lips parted, as if he’s mesmerised. Donghyuck knows he’s not gonna last, not with the way Mark makes him feel, desperate and out of control. So he tries to shy away from the attention, closes his eyes and turns his head to the side, sand raspy against his cheek.

“No,” Mark practically begs. He sounds so broken just from this, from touching Donghyuck. “Look at me, please.” He tangles his fingers into Donghyuck’s hair again, tugs at it until Donghyuck stares up at him between his eyelashes. “So fucking pretty,” he mumbles, leaning down to kiss at the heated skin of his cheeks.

Mark takes Donghyuck over the edge embarrassingly fast, he doesn’t even need to fasten his pace or strengthen his grip. Donghyuck just needs this: Mark’s soft compliments pressed to his red skin as he caresses him like he’s something precious, Mark panting into his mouth as if he’s the one being jerked off, as if making Donghyuck feel good is what he needs to feel good himself. He touches Donghyuck like the world narrows down to this moment, as if it ends and starts with Donghyuck’s pleasure.

He comes almost crying into Mark’s mouth, his hips shaking and jerking up into the touch uncontrollably. He sounds so incredibly needy and broken, Donghyuck distantly thinks he should be embarrassed, but Mark swallows every single one of the noises he makes, strokes him through the aftershocks tenderly, and doesn't give him room to feel anything but wanted.

(“Mark, you’re so fucking red,” Donghyuck says later, when they are walking back to the house. He tugs at Mark’s hand, clasped firmly into his. “You just had my dick in your hand, you can’t get shy from holding hands."

“Don’t say it like that!” Mark scwols at him, his cheeks getting impossibly redder under the light of the lamp posts. Donghyuck laughs in his face one more time.

Mark acts as if he’s mad the entire way back, but his thumb never stops moving back and forth over Donghyuck’s hand.

Donghyuck feels grounded.)

\- - -

Donghyuck knows plenty things about Mark now. One of the things he picked on from the start is that he hates talking about important stuff. Mark wasn’t shaped for serious conversations, he trips over his words and gets drowned in embarrassment, his eyes nervously jumping everywhere.

The worst part about this fact is that he shares it with Donghyuck. He runs out of emotionally compromising situations as fast as his witty personality allows him to. He turns every conversation into a joke, tricks everyone with sarcasm.

And that’s how they make it back home without talking about it.

He knows they need to stop this, because worry floods his chest whenever they stand at an uncertain point like this. And there’s nothing Donghyuck hates most than feeling out of control.

But the next day they have training, Mark shows up at Donghyuck’s university the way he always does. And when Donghyuck reaches him, Mark curls a hand around his waist, presses his fingers to the small of his back to push him closer to his body, tilting his head up to drop a kiss on Donghyuck’s chin first, and to the corner of his lips next.

And Donghyuck thinks, maybe they don’t even need words to understand each other anymore. Maybe they’ll be fine like this.

\- - -

They play the last game of the season the day before Donghyuck’s birthday. It sucks, because they win, but it is not enough to win the season.

The mood in the changing room afterwards is bittersweet. Everyone is deep in thought, probably replaying all their strategies and moves in their heads, thinking of all the things they could’ve done differently in previous matches, things they could’ve done better. Or at least that’s what Donghyuck is doing, he keeps thinking and overthinking and regretting.

But, even if they didn’t do as well as they could have, the mood is still gentle. They share small proud smiles, encouraging pats on the back, fond hands ruffling hair, patching each other’s wounds and sore joints with gentle fingers.

It is not the party it could’ve been if they had won the season, but the bond they share is beautiful. Donghyuck feels like he belongs in a way he’s never felt before, and he can’t wait to do it all over again next year, with the same people.

(All the bitterness melts into sweetness later, when Donghyuck comes out of the changing room and Jisung is waiting there for him, with a cake lit up with 20 candles, ready for him to blow them and wish for a fulfilling season next year.)

\- - -

Mark shows up at his house the night of his birthday.

It’s already dark outside when the bell rings. Donghyuck opens the door to find him standing there, he’s only wearing a pair of jeans and a tank top, because it’s already June and the weather is starting to warm up quite a bit. He’s wearing his glasses, a little crooked over his nose, his hair is all messed up, as if he’s been running his fingers through it. Donghyuck looks past Mark’s shoulder, but his bike is nowhere to be seen. He’s got his guitar case on his back, though.

“Happy birthday,” Mark says as a greeting, smiling softly.

“You’ve said that like six times during the past two days,” Donghyuck crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing here so late?”

Mark’s bites his lip nervously, his eyes leaving Donghyuck’s face as he searches for his phone in his pocket. “It’s 11,” he says, showing the screen to Donghyuck with big eyes. “It’s still your birthday.”

He pauses, pocketing the phone again, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“So?” Donghyuck prompts him to keep going, laughter hidden behind the word.

“So,” Mark looks up again, his forehead all wrinkled up. “Let’s go to the Han River! You said you didn’t really like gifts, you’d rather do stuff on your birthday. So, I thought it’d be nice. Han River, and the guitar. And, yeah. Just, hanging out? Together?”

He’s looking at Donghyuck all excited and expectant. Donghyuck melts under his eyes, melts at the fact that Mark keeps collecting information about him, little details Donghyuck drops here and there casually, just like he keeps track of all the things he’s learned about Mark throughout the months they’ve known each other. Donghyuck realizes, startled, that it’s been almost a year since that first day.

So, Donghyuck gets back inside and changes in record time. He takes Mark’s hand in his on their way to the Han River. Mark’s cheeks still go red.

It’s so nice, Donghyuck has never been in a date before. He can’t be sure if it’s one, because Mark hasn’t called it one. But it sure feels like it when they walk along the river hand in hand, and when Mark stops to take pictures of Donghyuck looking into the water. It feels even more like it when Mark suggests to sit down on the grass and he ends up taking his guitar out of his case to play some Frank Ocean songs, Donghyuck singing over the soft melodies ( _do you think about me still? do ya, do ya? or do you not think so far ahead? ‘cause i been thinking ‘bout forever_ ).

If Renjun was there he would probably fake gag at how cheesy and cliché the whole night is, and Donghyuck would probably agree with him just for the sake of messing with Mark. But it’s the two of them, only. And joking about it is the last thing in Donghyuck’s head when Mark slides closer to him over the grass.

Mark moves until they are sitting right in front of each other, his legs stretched over Donghyuck’s, his guitar on the grass beside him. He takes one of Donghyuck’s hands, plays with his fingers in the space between them, his eyes fixed there as he thinks of something to say.

“You’re such a sap,” Donghyuck beats him to it. He turns his hand in between Mark’s, grabs at his fingers to start thumb wrestling. “Taking me out on a date on my birthday of all days.”

“When did I say it was a date?” He frowns up at Donghyuck, getting distracted for a precious seconds that Donghyuck uses to trap his thumb with his, pressing down hard until Mark is taking his hand away. “Okay, fine, it’s a date,” he admits, a hand rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly shy.

Donghyuck looks at him smiling triumphantly. He reaches out for Mark’s hand again, starting another thumb war, trying to distract the two of them from the conversation that’s so obviously hanging on top of them.

“I know I suck at this,” Mark says. He’s talking quietly, most of his concentration focused on their little game. “Not just at, like, talking. I suck at relationships. Not that we are in one! In a relationship, I mean. But like, we could be. If you wanted to. See? I suck at this,” he takes his hand away when Donghyuck defeats him for a second time.

They go still for a moment, Donghyuck has to bite down into his lower lip, because Mark looks so frustrated and pissed off at himself. His mouth is curled into a pout, his brow all furrowed, and he has his hands fisted in the fabric of his jeans.

He looks up at Donghyuck after a few seconds, his frown deepening when he takes in his expression. “Don’t laugh at me, asshole!” He punches him in the throat when Donghyuck cackles. “I’m trying to ask you out!”

“Don’t you think you should’ve done that before you shoved your hand down my pants?” Donghyuck teases, wiggling his eyebrows.

Mark punches him again, his cheeks going pink under his glasses. “It sounds so bad when you put it like that,” he scrunches up his nose in disgust.

Donghyuck is so fucking smitten. He can’t stop staring at him, he has to bite his lips to stop himself from smiling, even though he knows the fondness is written all over his face. It’s not as if he was ever able to hide the way Mark makes him feel.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he mumbles, leaning closer. He brings a hand up to cup Mark’s cheek, he runs his thumb over his bottom lip softly, trying to brush the pout away, and Mark opens up for him so fast. Donghyuck’s mouth goes dry. “I thought we were already in a relationship, if that counts as an answer,” he says thickly, his eyes focused on Mark’s lips.

And Mark doesn't reply, but he drops a soft kiss to Donghyuck’s thumb. He parts his lips again, laps his tongue against the salty skin of Donghyuck’s finger. And fuck, Donghyuck wants him so bad, today and always.

So he replaces his thumb with his mouth, and tells Mark so right against his lips.

\- - -

The rest of spring goes like this: Mark at the entrance of Donghyuck’s university. Mark tagging along with them when Donghyuck hangs out with Jisung and Renjun. Donghyuck’s phone blowing up with messages from Mark, full of hahahas and smiling faces. Mark ringing the bell of his house. Mark in his living room talking to Donghyuck’s parents. Mark in his bed when the house is empty, staring up at Donghyuck with glossy eyes when he gets him off for the first time. Mark building himself a permanent place in Donghyuck’s life. 

Donghyuck crawling into Renjun’s bed, confesing:

“I think I like him too much.”

\- - -

Everything is so good for a month. Donghyuck still have the same questions, he isn’t sure if everything is really that good or if it only feels that way because it’s his first relationship. He doesn’t know if it’s supposed to always be this good or if it’s Mark what makes it that good. But they fit so well together, and Mark is so incredibly nice and selfless.

He should’ve, he keeps thinking. That first day Mark gave him his water bottle when they didn’t even know each other’s names. Or all those times Mark tried to talk Jaemin into being nicer to Donghyuck. Or when he insisted on driving him to practice after Donghyuck got injured. He does so much for Donghyuck, and he makes him feel like he _deserves_ it all.

Donghyuck finds himself in a constant battle with himself, wondering if what he feels can be called love, if a year is not too fast to fall in love with someone.

But things get weird in July. Donghyuck doesn’t know what shifts between them, he doesn’t even know if it’s between them or just in his head, because Mark is as gentle and warm as ever. But whenever Donghyuck tries to make future plans with him, Mark avoids his eyes, tries to change the topic as fast as possible.

And Donghyuck is left wondering if he is going too fast, if he’s the only one feeling like this, if, if, if. Frank Ocean playing in the back of his head like the official soundtrack to their relationship ( _do you think about me still? do ya, do ya? or do you not think so far ahead? ‘cause i been thinking ‘bout forever_ ).

It seems like walking on eggshells is linked to Mark, and Donghyuck isn’t sure if he wants to commit to that. But, still, he doesn’t even know if Mark wants to commit at all.

\- - -

It all makes sense one Jaemin texts him one day out of the blue.

**nana:** im sorry about mark :-(

 **nana:** is there smtng u want me 2 tell him tomorrow?

**haechan** : ?

 **haechan:** tf u talking about nana

**nana:** wait he didnt tell u???

 **nana:** fuck

 **nana:** im gonna kick him in the balls

**donghyuck:** jaem whats going on

**nana:** hes fucking moving away hyuck

 **nana:** he just told me

\- - -

Donghyuck spends a good hour debating what to do.

First, he gets dressed to run to Mark’s place, but he talks himself out of it, because if Mark didn’t come to him it means Mark doesn’t want to see him. And Donghyuck isn’t ready for their first fight, not when the chances are so high it’s gonna be the last.

Then, he decides to go to Renjun’s, but stops himself in front of the door, because if Mark hasn’t even told _him_ he’s moving, maybe it is because he doesn’t want anyone else to know. And even if Donghyuck is pissed off, he doesn’t want to do anything that could upset Mark. Even at a moment like this, the last thing he wants to do is to hurt him.

He ends up changing back into his pajamas, throwing himself into his bed and picking up his phone. He dials Mark’s number with shaky hands.

“Hey, Hyuck,” Mark says as soon as he picks up. His voice sounds so forcefully chirpy, Donghyuck winces at the sound.

“Mark, what the fuck is going on?” Donghyuck won’t beat around the bush, he’s never been good at that, he likes things nice and clear, and he’s cut Mark enough slack already.

Mark sighs on the other end, as if defeated. “Jaemin told you, didn’t he?”

“Why the fuck didn’t _you_ tell me?” Donghyuck asks, and he hates the fact that anger is sweeping through his words, but he can’t help it. “Where the hell are you going? Are you even coming back?”

The line goes silent for a moment, all Donghyuck can hear is Mark’s heavy breathing on the other end, sniffling quietly.

“Busan isn’t that far away,” Mark jokes, his voice wet and thick with tears.

Donghyuck has never seen him cry before, he doesn’t think he could handle it, only the sound of it has him swearing under his breath, his own eyes burning hot.

“Fuck, Mark,” he mumbles. Mark sniffles again. “Hey. It’s not that far away. Just, three hours by train. I can handle that.”

He’s trying to soothe him, to light up the mood, to look at the bright side of things. But a three hours trip to get there and a three hours trip to come back to Seoul is not something you can afford easily and often when you are trying to get a degree. But he doesn’t know what else to say, because he’s sure as hell not giving up on them because of some distance.

But, by the way Mark goes dead silent at the other side of the phone, it seems he doesn’t think the same.

“I don’t know if I’m ever coming back, Hyuck,” he’s talking so quietly, Donghyuck has to hold his breath to hear him. “My dad, he’s been promoted, he has to move there permanently. I didn’t tell you sooner because he didn’t find out until today. I knew. I knew there was a possibility, but I. I didn’t want to worry you.” His voice breaks at the end and, when he speaks again, he sounds so broken, Donghyuck’s chest burns for him. “Everything was so nice. It was going so well. I felt so. Damn it, Hyuck, you made me feel so good.”

“Mark, stop talking like that,” Donghyuck bites down into his thumb nervously, a gross habit he has picked up from Mark. His voice comes out muffled against his hand. “We can manage, it’s not that far away. Don’t fucking speak as if it’s over.”

“I can’t. Shit, I can’t ask you to wait when I don’t even know if I’ll ever make it back,” Mark says, his voice getting louder with frustration. “We haven’t even been together for a month, Donghyuck. I can’t just-”

“You don’t want to try,” Donghyuck is surprised at how cold his own voice sounds, when he’s burning hot inside, anger and disappointment curling uglily into his belly, turning his sudden sadness into bitterness. “You’ve never wanted to commit, right? Should’ve known. You never thought we could last.”

“No. Shut up, god. Donghyuck,” Mark sounds so desperate at the other end, Donghyuck can almost picture him running his hands through his already messy hair, glasses crooked over the bridge of his nose. “That’s not it. I want you, I’ve had for such a long time. You know this, you have to. Fuck, Haechan. I just can’t ask you to-”

“That’s not your choice to make,” Donghyuck cuts off his rambling, decisive. “I’m going to see you off tomorrow.”

“No, you can’t,” Mark almost shouts at him. Donghyuck answers with a hollow, bitter laugh. “I’m serious, Donghyuck. I won’t be able to leave if you are in front of me.”

“I don’t see any problems with that,” the sarcasm in his voice is so sharp it almost cuts him open.

“Don’t joke around with something like this.”

“Don’t be fucking dramatic, then.”

“I’m not. You know I’m not. You know-” Mark stops to take a shuddering breath, then says: “Hyuck, you know I love-”

“Shut up,” Donghyuck’s hands are shaking so badly, he tightens his fingers around the phone so hard his knuckles go white, so it doesn’t slip off his grip. His throat hurts with unshed tears when he speaks again, choked and ragged. “You don’t get to say that for the first time through the phone when you are trying to break up with me.”

“But it’s true, Hyuck. Let me tell you,” Mark pleads softly.

“You tell me in person or you don’t tell me at all.”

And Donghyuck hangs up, because he can’t hold back the tears any longer.

(He ends up running to Renjun’s house later. He cries into his shoulder softly for the first time in years.

“Told you I liked him too much.”)

\- - -

Renjun shakes him awake way too early. Donghyuck opens his swollen eyes to find Lucas in the door of Renjun’s bedroom, his shoulder resting against the frame as he wiggles his card keys in his hand.

“C’mon Haechan, time to go get your man.”

Donghyuck doesn’t even have to think about it. He doesn’t care if Mark is going to get angry when he sees him there, he can’t let him go when things feel so broken between them.

So he gets out of bed and slips into yesterday’s clothes as fast as he can. He jumps into Lucas’ car with his face bloated and red, purple shadows under his eyes, and his hair tangled and all over the place. But he doesn’t care, Mark has seen worse sides of him.

It’s so early in the morning the roads are almost empty. They get to Mark’s house in record time, and Donghyuck’s chest _aches_ when he sees him. Mark standing there, between two massive moving trucks, Jaemin’s arms wrapped tight around him as his parents wait inside of their car.

Donghyuck puts his hand on the door handle and takes a shuddering breath, trying to calm down his frantic heart. Lucas reaches out to stroke his fingers over the back of his hand, when Donghyuck looks up at him, he’s smiling warmly. Donghyuck thinks this is the calmest he has ever seen him.

“You can do this,” he says, squeezing Donghyuck’s fingers. “And he wants you here, even if it’s gonna be hard. I know him.”

Donghyuck shoots him a thankful smile, turns his hand around to intertwine their fingers for a moment, trying to find courage in Lucas’ warmth. “You aren’t coming?” He asks. He hates how fragile he sounds.

“I got to say goodbye before I went to pick you up,” his smile widens. He lets go of Donghyuck’s hand to pinch his cheek, hard. “C’mon, Renjun told me you never gave up. Go prove him right.”

Donghyuck smiles one last time, mumbling a quiet “thank you” before he gets out of the car.

Mark and Jaemin aren’t hugging anymore. It seems they noticed Lucas car and now they are standing there next to each other, waiting for Donghyuck to approach them.

He pulls the sleeves of the big sweater he’s wearing over his hands and wraps his arms around himself as he walks towards them slowly. He gets to take Mark in as he gets closer: he looks as devastated as Donghyuck feels, bags under his eyes, face paler than usual, his clothes all wrinkled up, as if he fell asleep on them and didn’t bother to get changed.

“Hi,” Donghyuck whispers when he reaches them, waving a hand in the air awkwardly. Mark is staring at the ground.

Jaemin giggles at that, pats Donghyuck’s shoulder as he walks past him. “I’ll wait in the car,” he says to the two of them. “Good luck,” quietly, for Donghyuck only.

And then, they are all alone.

It is such a bright day, it reminds Donghyuck of the day they met. But it’s so early in the morning it isn’t that warm yet, he’s shivering a little bit, even if he’s squinting at the bright light. And the feeling is entirely different. Donghyuck doesn’t want to be home right now, he wants Mark to take him wherever he’s going.

“Please, don’t be mad at me for coming,” Donghyuck whispers.

They are still a few feet apart, but everything is so quiet around them, Mark hears him anyway. His head snaps up, his eyebrows falling over his eyes in such a sad grimace, Donghyuck can’t help it, he’s stepping closer before he can stop himself. His sweater paws come up to Mark’s face, cradling it gently.

“You look like pure shit,” he laughs a little, moving so close his nose bumps against Mark's.

Mark doesn’t pull him away, he just closes his eyes under the touch, rests his hands on Donghyuck’s waist and squeezes, as if he’s making sure he’s actually there.

“I love you,” he says, out of the blue, unprompted. So gentle and frail, and with no kind of warning. It almost brings Donghyuck to tears again.

“Mark,” he begs, his voice high in a desperate whine. “Please, don’t do this to me.”

Donghyuck has to hide his face in Mark’s neck to stop himself from crying again right there. He wraps his arms around Mark’s shoulders and hides under his jaw, presses his words to his skin.

“Do you remember when I told you I wasn’t a quitter?” He feels Mark nodding rapidly against his hair, his arms wrapping tightly around Donghyuck’s middle. “I meant it.”

He takes a deep breath and pushes back, he moves away just enough to press his forehead against Mark. They are so close, Mark goes a little cross eyed trying to look at him.

“I meant it in every sense of the way.” Donghyuck keeps talking, each one of his words whispered in the warmth between them. “When I say I want to wait for you, I mean that, too. And you won’t make me back off. That’s not your choice to make.”

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” Mark complains, a tiny smile blooming in his beautiful face.

The color is coming back to his cheeks slowly, he’s going a little bit pink, and they are pressed up so close together, Donghyuck can feel Mark’s heart beating frantically against his ribs when he whispers: “I love you too, dumbass. And I’m so fucking stubborn, distance won’t make me stop.”

Mark kisses him. He presses against Donghyuck’s lips open mouthed and desperate, as if there’s no room for patience anymore. And there isn’t, they are quite literally running out of time. So Donghyuck fists his fingers into Mark’s hair and gives everything right back, frantic and messy and overflowing.

“You told me,” he pants into Mark’s mouth between bruising kisses, talking against his lips because he doesn’t dare to pull away. Because he doesn’t know when he’ll have this again. “You told me you are no quitter either. Prove it to me.”

And Mark kisses him like a promise, then. He kisses him deep and long, tracing every corner of Donghyuck’s mouth as if he’s trying to carve it into his mind. Licks into his mouth as if he’s trying to commit the taste to memory.

Donghyuck loves him like this: solid under his touch, steady under his thumbs, so warm and real, pouring everything he’s got into every second he spends with Donghyuck. He’s gonna miss him so much.

He tells him so when they pull away a few second later, breathing heavily into each other.

Mark smiles at him, that one real smile that turns his eyes into tiny moons and scrunches his nose like a big cat. He digs his fingers into Donghyuck’s sides all of a sudden, making him yelp with surprise before he’s bursting into laughter because Mark won’t stop tickling him.

“Stop, asshole!” Donghyuck screams, trying to squirm out of his grip. “You just ruined the moment!”

But Mark doesn’t stop, he tickles him until they are both red faced and breathless, laughing with tears in the corners of his eyes despite the situation.

“There,” he says, running a hand through Donghyuck’s hair and down his cheek, squeezing his face with his fingers. “Don’t wanna see you cry again. Never stop shining.”

Donghyuck doesn’t know how it’s possible when they are about to part, but he feels so full of light he thinks his chest might burst with it. So his smile widens, and he pulls Mark closer to kiss laughter into his lips one last time.

\- - -

The rest of the year goes by like this: luckless.

It seems as if Donghyuck’s luck leaves with Mark.

They talk on the phone every day before they go to sleep, and every single night Donghyuck has worse news to share.

He was so incredibly excited to start the new season, to try to conquer every field, even if Mark wasn’t there between them anymore. But, first, Lucas’ back starts hurting so much he has to take a month off, one month turns into two, then into three, and eventually he never steps into the field again, he only comes back to pick them up. Then, Donghyuck’s knee gets worse again, and no matter how many practices he sits out, every time he steps back into the field, it starts swelling up. And then, one of the worst days of Donghyuck’s life, Jaemin breaks his leg for the second time in his rugby career, Donghyuck swears he’s never seen anyone cry that much before, and he’s never felt so hopeless in his entire life.

Jaemin doesn’t know if he’ll ever play again, doesn’t know if he’ll ever have the strength to try. Donghyuck ends up quitting because his leg doesn’t give him a break. And Jisung and Renjun follow him soon after, because what’s even the point if they aren’t together?

They all end up moving on, Donghyuck can finally focus all his time in university, which is much needed. But there’s this void inside of him, this craving that never gets satisfied, this longing for dirt under his nails and bruises on his knees and sore feet that he will have to learn to live with, because it sure isn’t going away any time soon. 

Suddenly, the only way Seoul feels like home is when he crawls into Renjun’s bed, Jisung following right behind him.

\- - -

It’s spring break already and Donghyuck has passed all of his subjects. Now, he is standing at the platform waiting patiently for his train, a full suitcase next to him, a ticket crumpled between his eager fingers, destination Busan.

He’s going home.

\- - -

The future is like this: they both finish their degrees and Mark gets a spot as an intern in a translating agency in Seoul. They move in together to a building in the same street as Jisung’s apartment. They go to every single one of Jaemin’s games when his leg recovers and he decides to give it another go, Renjun and Lucas joining them in a double date afterwards. Mark walks around their house half naked, he plays the guitar in the balcony and Donghyuck sings from the kitchen while he cooks dinner for the two of them, because Mark’s still a mess who can’t even fry an egg and, honestly, Donghyuck doesn’t want him any other way.

  
  


_(Do you think about me still? do ya, do ya? or do you not think so far ahead? ‘cause i been thinking ‘bout forever.)_

**Author's Note:**

> so............... ..... .. first of all thank you for reading this long ass nightmare. as u might've guessed this took me a lot of time and im emotionally invested into it so i would Really appreciate it if you told me what u think about it and left kudos!!!!
> 
> also i actually came up w positions for all the members, but of course they didnt get mentioned in the fic. i doubt anyone other than me cares but u can ask me about it if you want hhhh
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/tiniemarks) // [cc](https://curiouscat.me/tiniesung)


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